


Off Duty

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, but i can't change who i am, don't judge me because i already do that in the mirror, i look back at myself and think, it was just an excuse to write smut, look sex happens in this, okay, what a perv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-06-20 20:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15541941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission. Their prickly professional relationship might just need a more personal connection.





	1. Chapter 1

You awoke to a chime from your phone. Groggily, you reached from under the blankets and brought the screen up to your blurred vision. _BRIEFING: OPERATION RED SABRE_. You sighed and swiped up, unlocking to view the message.

You sat up, the blanket drooping of the bed as you hung your legs over the edge. You yawned, reading as you stood and blindly maneuvered around your room. You dragged your feet down the hallway and into your small kitchen. You flipped the switch of your coffee machine, leaning against the counter, still intent on the small font before you.

_Please read before arrival. Details integral to mission success. Arrival ETA: 06:00._

You looked to the the time in the corner of the screen and cursed. You had just enough time to get to Stark Tower if you left in the next ten minutes. You took out your travel mug, setting it beside the brewing pot before digging inside your front closet.

You always kept a bag ready to go. Knowing Tony and his last-minute alerts, you’d never get anything done without one. You quickly changed into jeans and a tee, a pair of beat ups sneakers on your feet. You pulled a hat over your messy hair and filled your travel mug with black coffee.

Stark Tower loomed as you pulled up, scanning over the contents of your briefing. The elevator felt slower than usual as the floors tick away with the minutes. You reached the conference room at exactly 5:59, a dark look directed at Tony’s smirk.

You were surprised to be the only of two operatives at the table. Bucky sat across from you, sinking into his chair as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He eyed your mug enviously as you sipped from it but you ignored his gaze. You kept your attention on Tony who was undoubtedly impatient to begin.

“In the future, you could send us these things more than an hour in advance,” You grumbled, “Jeez, Tony, it’s like you think we never sleep.”

“You look well rested. Both of you,” He teased as he glanced between you and Bucky, “And for once, you’re on time.”

“We’re always late because you never tell us when we’re expected.” Bucky rasped, his voice thick with fatigue.

“Is everyone else late?” You wondered aloud.

“Nope, everyone who needs to be here is here,” Tony straightened his blazer as he preened himself, “Seeing as you’re my only operatives skilled in the Russian dialect.”

“Natasha?” You offered.

“She’s busy,” He clapped his hands together, “And the two of you together are less terrifying than she is so early in the morning.”

“Let’s test that theory,” You threatened.

“I trust you read your briefings,” Tony ignored your reproach.

“Read is a generous term,” You said, “You didn’t give us much time to do so. Did you know it’s illegal, and rightlyso, to be on your phone and drive at the same time?”

“Well, you can catch up on the finer details during your flight, for now we’ll go over the basics.” Tony leaned against the head of the table, “We managed to locate Ira Corwin. I think you might recall his name. He’s an ex-British MI6 agent turned terrorist. Formerly associated with Hydra, he recently had a run in with the CIA. He slipped through their fingers about a year ago.”

“And where is he now?” You asked.

“Russia. St. Petersburg to be exact. He has formerly sought asylum so we’ve missed our window to retrieve him, but we can sniff out whatever plans he’s hatching.” Tony explained, “And if in doing so he meets his end, that wouldn’t be so bad either. Suspicious deaths are everyday news in Russia. It’s not our objective but…a suggestion.”

You nodded, silence freezing like ice around you. You looked over at Bucky who had paled. He looked ready to flee. A vein bulged along his temple, his jaw clenched. “You want me…to go to Russia?”

His voice was low and dangerous. You turned to Tony who seemed unfazed by the former Winter Soldier’s distress. Admittedly, the two of them had a rocky past and this wouldn’t help the underlying tension. As it was, you had found little in common with Bucky yourself.

He was standoffish to the point of contention. You had given up trying to be more than acquaintances quite a while ago. Even so, you couldn’t help but empathize with him. Not only was he being sent to the last place he wanted to go, but it was with almost no warning. You weren’t too keen on going to Russia yourself.

“I knew I should’ve taken German,” You muttered.

“We can arrange that,” Tony chimed, “And yes, I expect you to go to Russia and complete your mission, Barnes. Be grateful I’m not sending you in alone.”

“Oh, thanks,” He snapped sarcastically, “That makes it so much better.”

“The two of you are adept. I trust you can get this done quickly and quietly. That being said, I have a jet waiting. Make sure to read those briefings thoroughly on your flight. I don’t intend to send a rescue team over an unread email.”

“Yes, sir,” You said dramatically.

“Mmm,” Bucky groaned, pushing himself to his feet. His reluctance was making you less than confidant.

* * *

“How are we supposed to infiltrate this dinner? Half of Russia knows my face.” Bucky slammed his phone down and you were half-certain he had broken it.

“But they don’t know mine,” You offered, “You’re stealthy. You can sneak in the back. I’ll be inside to make sure it’s unlocked.”

The flight had been long and silent. You had grown too anxious to nap and by the time you reached your hotel, you were ready to collapse. After a thorough debugging of the room, you watched your fellow agent reading and re-reading his briefing with increasing despair. It was the closest you had seen him to human.

“And I’m to trust you won’t blow your cover? Stark has underestimated the Russians and Corwin.”

“I’m not inexperienced.” You argued, “I’ve had bigger missions than this. How do I know _you_  won’t blow it?”

“Right, and how do you propose you get into this party?”

“Stark thinks ahead,” You unzipped the duffel that had been planted on the jet, “I do clean up quite well.”

“A gown? I admit, escorts have a certain allure in Russia but I highly doubt they are permitted to such important gatherings.” He huffed, “You know, I bet the nuclear codes are tattooed on the thigh of a Siberian whore.”

“Jesus Christ, would you stop?” You snapped, “You’re a trained soldier, Barnes, now fucking act like it.”

His chest rose dangerously as he stood, his metal arm flexing visibly beneath his shirt. You stared at his fist, readying yourself for his anger. He exhaled and unfolded his fingers, turning away from you. “I hate Russia.”

“This Petrov Gorovich,” You searched through the briefing, “He’s our mole. He can get me through the doors. I’ll have him keep an eye out when I sneak away and I trust you’ll be waiting for my signal.”

“Seems too easy,” He growled, looking out the tall window.

“We’ll be out of the country before anyone knows. Tony’s programmed the override,” You held up the small chip, “It will overcome whatever encryption Corwin’s done. We just need to find out where exactly he keeps the files.”

“In plain sight, no doubt,” He mumbled.

“Don’t be such a coward. You’ll be safely waiting in the shadows. I’ll be doing all the hard work.”

“What did you just call me?” He turned sharply.

“You’re sitting here whining like a baby. I’ve always heard stories of this brave soldier, Sergeant Barnes, but I’ve been stuck with this mewling child.”

“Don’t tell me what I am,” He neared as you stood, meeting his wrath with your own, “You don’t know what they did. You don’t know shit about Russians.”

“I know how to do my job.” You retorted, “I’m only worried that _you_  don’t.”

“Go call Gorovich,” He squared his shoulders as his cheek twitched, “Better we have one person at that dinner who’s capable.”

* * *

Bucky had set you on edge. Your little spats hadn’t ceased, even after speaking with Gorovich. The super soldier had always had a way of making you uneasy. The way his blue eyes searched endlessly, his lips only breaking their straight line for a deeper frown. His usual silence unnerving.

Now that he was speaking his doubts, it was contagious. He knew the country better than you; its intrigues and underbelly. With one armed hooked through Petrov’s, you hoped it didn’t show. Your smile was fake but you had perfected the act. A quick bat of the lashes or subtle giggle would distract from more subtle tics.

But that voice in your head didn’t help. Not the usual one; that inner monologue narrating each and every move. Bucky’s. You were tempted to rip out your earpiece but that would’ve been a definite giveaway.

When you were introduced to Corwin, your head finally went silent. He took your hand in all civility before carrying on with Gorovich. There were other women there, all attached to the arms of less attractive men. It was more believable that this was a dinner party like any other if their were plus ones. What made it less savoury, were that none were wives.

“A dime a dozen,” Bucky said as if he could read your mind. “But none of them without their motivations. Hydra had escorts. They were the more efficient agents. Men talk a lot after…well. Just, keep the talk light.”

A redheaded woman approached. She introduced herself as Talia to which you returned your alias. She was with Ira. Her green eyes betrayed her ulterior mission. There was no lustre in them when she looked at the squat Briton and when she spoke of him, there was an air of subtle mocking.

“That Gorovich, he is very lucky to have found a woman at last,” She teased, “We were starting to think him a monk. Or even of another leaning, if you understand me.”

“He is a shy one,” You smiled coyly, “I swear, he didn’t realize I wanted to fuck him until I grabbed his crotch.”

“Oh, Ira, he is much worse. He thinks every breath is a sign,” She laughed, “But sometimes even his own body doesn’t agree.”

“But when he does, does he last?”

“Surprising stamina given his stature,” She trilled. You earpiece had gone silent.

You looked over as a you saw another figure approaching. Petrov offered a glass of red wine and you fumbled the stem, causing the alcohol to spill down your front. “Oh, Petrov, you dolt.” You cried.

Talia laughed, highly amused at the suffering of others. “As graceful as ever, Gorovich.” She grabbed a cloth napkin from the nearby table, “Dab, don’t rub. There is a bathroom just down that hallway. Wet as soon as possible and the stain should come right out.”

“Thanks,” You took the cloth from her, “Which room?”

“The third to the left…trust me, Ira’s spilled his share of wine on me. He gets…overexcited.”

You grinned at her, shaking your head at Gorovich in feigned disappointment before excusing yourself. You entered the bathroom and locked the door behind you. “Fifth window on the east wing,” You said.

“On my way,” Bucky confirmed. He had been eerily silent and his voice frightened you.

You unzipped your dress and turned on the sink. You unlatched the window before removing the garment and began dabbing with the wetted cloth. You heard a ruffle and an arm appeared through the window. Bucky lowered himself quietly onto the bathroom floor, careful not to fall.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he steadied himself.

“I’ve got to make my alibi believable,” You hissed, “Besides, I can’t be walking around with a giant stain.”

“Right,” He tore his eyes away, turning his back to you.

“When I leave, you wait three minutes,” You advised, “Gorovich is going to start vomiting. We’ll meet you at the south entrance.”

“I know,” He grumbled.

You looked up at the mirror, his blue eyes met yours in the mirror as he peeked over his shoulder and he quickly turned back. You shook out the dress and examined it. It would have to do. You wiped the remaining wine from your collar bone and pulled your dress back on.

“Alright,” You whispered, turning off the faucet, “As you were.”

* * *

“This is where I leave you,” Petrov announced in his heavy accent.

The sky was lightening as dusk approached. His small car was parked at the side of the road, a motorbike revealed from behind the nearby bushes. You were still in your stained dress, your hair sagging in its bun. Bucky was anxious to leave, his metal fist clenching and unclenching.

“You ride without stopping. Border guard is a friend, he wiil wave you through.” He instructed, “I must go home before they notice.”

“Thank you,” You took the keys from Petrov, “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you,” He returned, “Be quick.”

He got back in his car and you watched him drive away. You felt a tug on the keys and turned as Bucky tried to wrestle them from your fingers.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Driving. I have to get out of Russia.”

“I can drive,” You countered, pulling away from him, “You can take the back.”

He squinted at you, staring you down until you turned away. You hiked up your skirt as you straddled the bike and put up the kickstand. “Well, do you want out of Russia or what?”

He sighed and approached, tentatively climbing on behind you. “You sure you can drive in those?” He looked at your stilettos curiously.

“I’ve done worse in heels,” You shoved the key into the ignition and turned, “Now, let’s go.”

* * *

After you crossed the border, you let Bucky take over. You stopped for gas as little as possible until you reached Berlin. It was a breath of relief to be in Germany. Another day and you’d be home. 

You climbed off the bike, stretching your legs with a groan as Bucky leaned it on the kickstand. He led you wordlessly into the motel; a single room booked for the both of you. Stark was a billionaire but he could be awful frugal. 

“Is there any vacancies?” You asked.

“None,” The front desk attendant replied, scratching his thick beard, “You two fighting?”

“What? Oh no, we’re not a couple,” You laughed, rubbing your eyes.

“No?” The man replied, sliding your key across the counter, “The bed is big enough for both of you.”

Bucky sighed and took the key. You followed him to the room, the door covered in chipped paint. You had only the small bag Petrov had strapped to the bike. A single change of clothes for each of you.

“I’m hungry,” Your reluctant roommate muttered as he opened the door, “I’m going to go look for some food.”

“Okay,” You entered, dropping the bag on the bed, “I’ll be…here.”

He grunted and continued on past the door. You closed it as he walked away and turned to the tiny room. The bed was barely big enough for just you. You took out your clothes and went into the bathroom. The shower wasn’t as grimy as you expected, though the door’s handle didn’t exist.

You set your clothes on the counter and stepped under the stream. You could still smell the wine. You scrubbed at your hair, the filth of the road compacted in the tangles. You hummed as the water turned from cloudy to clear and stepped out. You dried your hair, wrapping it in a towel as you pulled on the dark leggings.

You heard the door open and looked over as Bucky entered. The bathroom door had fallen open due to its lack of handle and you quickly closed it before he could look your way. You pulled the tee shirt over your head and patted dry your hair, hanging the towel on the bar.

You re-entered the bedroom, Bucky sat on the chair as he unpacked a container from a paper bag. “I got you some too, if you’re hungry,” He offered the bag, “Figured you could use it.”

“Thanks,” You said as you warily took the food, “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugged and opened his container of bratwurst and chips. You sat on the end of the bed as he had the only chair and did the same. The smell of sausage awakened your hunger. You took the remote from beside the television and sat back down, flipping on the news.

“I didn’t know you spoke German,” Bucky intoned as the presenter chattered away.

“I don’t,” You replied, “But it’s better than silence.”

You finished your meal and tossed the container in the bin. You sat against the headboard and took out your phone. “Berlin,” You texted Tony.

You set aside your phone, reading the German streaming across the bottom of the television. It was like solving a puzzle except you would never find the solution. It was, at least, preferable to doing nothing. Especially when Bucky was your only company.

The sound of his empty container landing in the bin jolted you and you felt his eyes upon you. Your lip twitched as you tried to ignore him. The heat spread despite your efforts; across your cheeks, your neck, chest. 

_What was his problem?_

You slowly turned your head, meeting his eyes staunchly. He blanched and looked away.

“What?”

“N-nothing,” He stuttered. “Sorry.”

“You can look wherever you like,” You shrugged, “But if you have something to say…”

“Do you?” He challenged, daring to meet your gaze.

“Nothing past what has already been said,” You raised a brow.

His forehead wrinkled and he nodded. His fingers tapping the arm of the chair and his leg wobbling. He cleared his throat. You snarled. He smiled.

“What’s so amusing?” You challenged.

“You,” He said.

“Says the man with the metal arm,” You shook your head.

“At least it’s not my heart,” He countered.

You readied for a retort but snapped your mouth shut. You tore your glare away from him and took the remote, flipping through the channels. You settled on a German dub of  _The Wizard of Oz_. Even if you couldn’t understand the words, you could understand the story. Somehow, it was even more absurd in a foreign language.

You ignored the figure that passed before the screen, fixating on the technicolor sequence. A weight shifted the bed under you and your drew your knees up, resting your arms on them as you blatantly shunned the man beside you. The unusually high voice that spoke for the scarecrow was almost comical in the tense silence.

“You know, I remember when this came out,” Bucky said softly, “It was the same year as  _Gone With the Wind_.”

You kept silent, watching the awkward strawman dance on the screen as another rambled at your elbow.

“My date then was much more keen on me,” He kidded, “I don’t even remember the ending for all the…um, other fun.”

“I’m sorry, but is your sole mission to drive me nuts,” You finally looked at him.

“I was trying to break the ice,” He shrugged, “Hard to do with an ice queen.”

“Me?!” You fought to keep your voice under control, “You–I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak at once. At least in my presence. And I’m starting to miss your former mute self.”

Your irritation only seemed to encourage him, a grin spreading across his face. You scowled and looked back to the television. “If only you had a brain…” You muttered.

His laughter scared you. Unexpected and unfamiliar. He shook the thin mattress with it and you resisted the urge to smack him. You unbent your legs and turned them over the side of the bed. There had to be other motels in Berlin.

“Hey, where are you going?” He caught your arm before you could stand.

“I’m done with you making fun of me,” You wriggled from his grasp and turned on him, “Next time, I’ll have Stark send Rogers with you since he’s the only one you can find an ounce of respect for.”

“Wait, I do respect you,” He climbed across the bed as you grabbed your phone and searched for your shoes. “Hey, wait.”

He stood in front of the door, blocking your way. “I was just…teasing you.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” You grumbled, “Look, I’ll see you back in New York.”

“Y/N,” He sighed, “I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”

“Better for both of us if I do.”

You made to push past him, your hand pausing on the handle as he kept his arm between you and your exit. He looked down at you, his fingers grazing your hip. “I think it’s better you stay and we sort this out.”

“What the fuck, Bucky? We’re not some married couple, we don’t need to sort this out.”

“I’m not looking for anything so serious,” His cheek twitched, “Just quick and easy.”

You tilted your head at him as you caught his meaning. “I’m not  _that_  easy.”

“Think of it as stress relief,” His voice was low, dusky. It sent a shiver through you. “Purely pragmatic. It’s been a stressful mission.”

You search his face, looking for any sign of humour. Surely, he must have been joking. Prior to the last few days, you had barely talked to the man and those words you had exchanged, had been strained. Everything about him was earnest, however.

“Look, I gotta shower. Just stay and think about it. If you want to go, go.” He rescinded his arm, “If you want to stay, well, you’re more than welcome.”

Slowly, he backed away, turning as he pulled his shirt over his head. His back was tautly muscled, rippled scars along the flesh of his left shoulder. The dark metal of his prosthetic shone in the dingy motel lamplight. He began to undo his pants and you looked away, turning back to the door.

Your hand hovered over the door handle. You slowly lowered it and turned the latch but couldn’t will yourself to pull. You sighed and released the handle, turning the lock as you turned back to the room. The bathroom door was open and you could see the bare silhouette of Bucky through the shower curtain. This was not how you had imagined this mission ending.

Your stomach was a flurry of nerves. _Were you really going to do this?_ Sergeant Barnes; former Hydra-operative, steely war veteran, jaded super soldier. Amidst your want to strangle him you couldn’t deny your other desires. Animalist but in a much different sense.

The high-pitched squeal of the tap being turned pierced your thoughts. You kicked off your shoes and sat in the chair, picking at the fraying brocade. You stared at the television, taking note of Bucky’s movement in the corner of your eye. This was your last chance to flee.

“You’re still here,” He said matter of factly as he entered the bedroom. You continued staring at the television, gripping the arms of the chair. He neared, leaning on the straight chair back, his hand just above your shoulder. “We can just sleep. It was only an offer, not an ultimatum.”

“Shut up and turn this off,” You stood, nudging him a bit too harshly.

You had resigned yourself to you baser desires. Sitting there and stewing in your pent up frustration hadn’t helped your self-restraint. It was one night. One night to make up for the shitty days which had preceded.

Bucky flipped off the television, dropping the remote on the nightside table as he fell back on the bed. The towel around his waist loosened and it lay tauntingly over his pelvis. You set your phone down beside the remote and began to pull on the elastic of your pants.

“Christ’s sakes, Y/N, this isn’t a mission,” He commented, “Just relax.” He patted the bed beside him and smirked.

You left your pants askew and rubbed your forehead. You were tired but the idea of release had you wired. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep yet. You climbed onto the bed, lowering yourself stiffly beside Bucky. He laid on his side to face you, rubbing your shoulder as you turned to him.

He brushed your hair back with his fingers. You gave a shy smile. He slowly leaned closer, his breath on your lips before they met yours. It was a gentle peck at first; cautious. You moved your lips against his and you eased yourself into his touch. The kiss grew deeper, his hand mussing your hair.

He pressed closer until you were on your back and he was over you, your head sinking in the pillow. Your heart slowed, your nerves calming. You reached up to touch his bare stomach, feeling the lines of his muscle. He flinched and you felt him tremble as he pulled away.

“I’m ticklish,” He giggled.

“Useful knowledge,” You teased as you reached out to tickle him again.

“I don’t think so,” He blocked your arm, pushing it to the bed.

He trailed his hand along your chest and stomach, pausing at hem of your shirt. You lifted a brow in goading and he tugged. His fingers caressed your skin and he bent over you, his lips following his hand. You held your breath as his lips sent waves through you. The damp ends of his hair tickled your flesh.

You bit your lip as he continued upward, the fabric slipping over your breasts, the cool air washing over you. You lifted your shoulder, pulling the rumpled shirt over your head awkwardly. You tossed it onto the floor, twitching as Bucky’s mouth reached your chest. He teased and tasted your nipple, sparking the dormant flame within.

You grasped the back of his head with an unbidden moan, his hand crawling back down your stomach. His fingers slid beneath the elastic of your pants and you held in a gasp. He play with the short hair along your pubis, humming into your flesh as he teased your outer lips. He pressed his fingers deeper, toying with your nub.

You writhed beneath him, tugging on his hair. He nibbled as you whined, his fingers playing with you. He slowed his rhythm, painfully, tantalizingly. You wanted more but you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of hearing you beg. You closed your eyes, trying to keep your breathing even.

He pressed more firmly, working quicker. Your desire spread, dampening your thighs and suddenly you were overcome. You were in rapture. The sensation sizzled, nipping at your thighs, bursting from your pelvis. Your back arched and you cried out; the strained moan coming unhinged.

“Oh god,” You sighed, “Ohhh.”

Slowly, basking in the your trembling, Bucky removed his hand, lifting his head as he laid back on his side. He looked over you, your breasts bared, your pants crooked over your hips, your cheeks flushed. He grinned, sitting up with purpose. In his labours, his towel had fallen loose and he knelt between your legs entirely naked.

He pulled at the waist of your pants, freeing your legs. Your muscles still quivered from your climax, your heart once more beating a symphony. You pushed yourself up on your elbows as you watched him position himself between your legs. You reached down to touch his member, tracing circle around its tip. He shuddered at the motion and you gripped his shaft firmly, stroking it coyly as he groaned.

He dug his fingers into your thighs, parting your legs as he sidled closer. You rescinded your touch, watching as his member poked at your sex. He took his shaft in his hand, rubbing the tip along your nub, slowly guiding it to your opening.

He paused, staring down at you tauntingly. You let yourself fall back on the pillow and chuckled. “I’m not going to beg,” You said.

“I didn’t think so,” He pushed inside of you, the suddenness of the act eliciting a sharp gasp.

He thrust and you purred, your eyes rolling back. He lifted your legs so that they rested against his chest, your feet over his shoulders. The strain was delicious as he buried himself deeper. His hands gripped your hips, his metallic fingers pinching your flesh. You bared your teeth, trying to withhold the moans that tickled your throat.

You could feel the tension building within. You clung to the rough blanket beneath you, a moment of clarity striking as you once more approached your peak. You were being savaged in a murky, German hotel. It was absolutely absurd. And wonderful.

A high-pitched cry accompanied your orgasm, shocking even you. You touched your heaving chest, Bucky moving in you as he relished in your pleasure. You trembled, your legs falling limply to the mattress as he removed himself from you.

Out of breath, you let him turned you over, the duvet damp with sweat beneath your stomach. He smacked your rear and moved your legs apart. He lifted your torso just slightly, his thighs beneath yours. He entered you again, this time slower. His rhythm was calmer, kinder, but it didn’t last.

His motion picked up and his grunts intermingled with your senseless groans. He held your hips, thrusting into you harder and harder. You brought your elbows up beside your head, folding your arms to keep yourself from suffocating in the pillow. He removed a hand from your waist to grab your hair, tugging back so that your head was suspending from the hank tangled in his fingers.

You were half-spent but once more the pressure mounted. The moans tumbled from your lips without restraint.  _Were you saying ‘Bucky’ or ‘fuck me’?_ You clawed at the bed, arching your back as he pulled harder on your hair. You squealed as release filled you; fire running through your veins.

Bucky let go of your hair, and you fell to the mattress as he pulled away suddenly. He groaned, a curse under his breath, his body shaking the bed. You turned over as his semen spilled onto his disposed towel. He stroked himself until he was done, breathing heavily as he wiped himself with a corner of the terry cloth.

He crumpled the towel up and tossed it onto the floor. He flopped beside you, his hair messy across the pillow as he closed his eyes, steadying his breath. “So,” He turned to look at you, “Are you into cuddles or…”

You scoffed but let him snuggle closer, his arm draped across your middle. As the sweat cooled on your neck, you closed your eyes and sighed. This didn’t need to be included in the mission report.


	2. Work It Out

You relished the eerie silence of the building. Your midnight workouts were your quiet time. Away from the rush of the city streets, the endless buzz of voices, and the stifling smog. All your stress lingered behind you, the tension releasing you as you entered the abandoned locker room. You preferred to work out at night when most were sleeping or frequenting their favourite club. It was only then that you were truly alone; a quite peculiar feeling to you.

You twisted your hair into a messy bun and pulled on a loose tank over your sports bra. You slipped into your shorts and slowly tied your sneakers, enjoying the simple task. With your headphones hugging your ears and your mp3 clipped to your waistband, you found your way to the second floor of the gym. You set out a mat in front of the wall of mirrors and began your stretches, breathing through the ritualistic movements.

You closed your eyes as music swirled in your ears and your muscles loosened. It was truly relaxing. Not having to worry about your life or that of others. Ever watching for a concealed blade or edged word. You could forget that you had taken a man’s life; more than one. That you lived a violent life in the name of protecting others. Your work didn’t always feel justified.

You stood straight as you raised your arms over your head, bending your elbow as you stretched out your shoulder. Opening your eyes, a figure not far behind you drew a frightened yelp from your lips and had you reaching for a non-existent knife at your hip. You turned to face Bucky as he leaned against the rack of weights, his expression cool but his eyes twinkled with a latent spark of intrigue.

“Jesus,” You tore of your headphones, “You scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” He crossed his arms, “You just looked so…serene.”

“What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me anyway? I didn’t know you went to this gym.”

“I didn’t know you did either,” He countered, kicking himself away from the rack, “Here for a little late night party.” His mouth slanted coyly, “Haven’t you got anything more exciting to do on a Friday night?”

“Haven’t you?” You countered, “This is what I do on a Friday night. Alone.”

You turned and set your headphones back in place. You lowered yourself to the mat, stretching out one leg in a half-split. Your eyes were drawn by Bucky’s reflection, his eyes blatantly on your butt. You sighed and rolled your eyes, trying to block out your own guilty thoughts. The scene in Berlin rose in your mind and you tried not to shudder.

You averted your eyes, focusing on your stretches. When you next looked up, Bucky was gone and you were relieved to once more be alone. At the same time, your heart was racing and you couldn’t help but wish he was still there staring at you. You hadn’t seen him since Germany and you hadn’t said much on the flight home. For most of it, you had been asleep having exhausted yourself further in the motel room. That old wall had formed between the two of you and you had parted swiftly; silently.

It was hard to think it had been an entire month since Berlin. At the same time, it felt a distant memory; a dream even. You stood and shook out your arms, trying to shed the images flashing through your mind. A good round of cardio would help. You exhaled loudly and set off down the row of exercise bikes, climbing onto the seventh machine in the row. Your were habitual in your gym visits; same plan, same machines, same time. It was the only time you felt secure enough for routine, but Bucky had thrown you off. Here, you weren’t ready for the unexpected.

* * *

Another day, another mission. You gripped the steering wheel as you listened to the subtle breaths rising and falling beside you. Nat was half-asleep and your own eyes burned. Two days in Washington had nearly driven you mad. It was easier however when your partner actually spoke to you. You and Natasha were often paired up and she was one of the few people you associated with both professionally and personally. It made quite the difference when you trusted the agent at your side.

You yawned as you navigated the clogged streets. The heavy traffic was familiar and almost welcoming. You couldn’t wait to get to your apartment and chill out, but first you had to drop off Nat.

“What are you doing tonight?” She yawned, nearly causing you to slam on the brakes in surprise. You had thought she was napping.

“Sleeping,” You scoffed, “The minute I get home I’m out for the count.”

“I don’t think so,” She said, “A couple hours and you should be good to go.”

“Oh, so I suspect I have plans with you tonight?” You mused, “And what would those be?”

“Just a drink…or two,” You could hear the smirk in her voice, “A couple of friends. A few you may know, some you may not.”

“Yeah?” You stared at the bumper ahead of you. You could guess who would be there; Sam was her go to drinking buddy, sometimes Tony would even show his face depending on the venue. On the odd night, Steve would have a ginger ale and act as the designated driver. As for her other friends, you never remembered their names because they changed so often.

“Wanda’s coming,” She offered, “It’s her birthday…”

“Oh, ugh,” You groaned, “So I guess I can’t say no. Why couldn’t we just go bowling or something? I hate going to bars.”

“Not a bar, a club,” She chimed.

“Much better.” You grumbled, “Does she know you’ve chosen to take her to a club?”

“It was her idea. She’s never really been to one and I mean, we could all go for a good night of dancing.”

“Mmm,” You chewed your lips as you turned down a side street, “Well,” You pulled up to Nat’s building, “Text me and see if I’m awake. You’ll have your answer then.”

“I’ll be at yours at nine,” She declared, “You better be dressed and ready to go.”

“Yes, mother,” You taunted, “Now please, get of my car so I can go home.”

* * *

You followed Nat past the bouncers, the flashing lights shocking your tired eyes. Three hours of sleep was barely enough for the night ahead of you but you had done more with less before. It was barely ten, the club was yet to fill up. Bass pumped from the speakers and you were already annoyed. You were too sober for that amount of noise.

Nat claimed a booth with four leather couches around a low table. She sat back as she pulled out her phone and began furiously tapping at the screen. You shook your head and greeted the server as he appeared in his ironed black dress pants and matching button-up. “Whiskey on the rocks,” You looked to Nat who nodded at you, “One for her too.”

You shook your leg as you waited for her to finish her texting. You felt awkward sitting in an empty club; the dance floor desolate and only a few people sat along the bar. You should have just slept through Nat’s phone calls.

“Wanda and Vis are on their way,” She announced, “Shouldn’t be long before–” She stood as she stopped speaking, waving to a group that had just entered. You followed her gaze and recognized her guests.

Tony led the pack, eager to begin the night with Pepper on his arm. Sam and Steve were not far behind, the former elbowing the latter over some unheard joke. The last of their group was most surprising, unwelcomed even. Bucky followed with a deadpan expression and you tried to sink into the leather cushions.

Nat greeted them as the server returned with your drinks and you sipped the whiskey, hopping no one would notice you. You might actually be able to sneak out if they distracted her long enough. You glanced up just as Bucky’s eyes flicked towards you and the tension left his face. He stepped around the others and sat on the couch next to you, pointing to Natasha’s untouched whiskey.

“You expecting me?” He raised a brow.

“Not at all,” You reached out and slid the glass towards Nat who was still standing, chattering to Pepper.

“Damn,” He gave a half-smirk, “What are you drinking anyway?”

“Whiskey…Should’ve ordered a double,” You looked over his shoulder as Sam and Steve sat on the next couch, “Why don’t you hang out with your friends?”

“Are we not friends?” He teased.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” You took a large gulp of your whiskey, patting the cushion as you made to stand, “Colleagues, more like.”

You stood and stepped away, coming up next to Nat to say hello to Tony and Pepper. “You didn’t say everyone was coming,” You hissed in her ear.

“What?” She looked around, “Oh, I forgot you and Sam had that argument over his wings.”

“That was months ago,” You shook your head, “And it’s just…I wasn’t expecting so many.”

“I hate to break it to you but this place is going to get real crowded,” She smiled, turning back as more people streamed in through the doors. Among the parade of strangers were Wanda and Vision. Nat waved them over and you tried not to frown.

“You know, I never got them as a couple. He looks like her father but inside he’s a newly born sentience…”

“Y/N,” Nat jabbed you, “Don’t be an asshole.”

You sensed movement behind you and looked back as Bucky stifled his chuckles in his hand. You finished your drink and set it on the table, sitting down as you waved for the server to return. “What’s so funny?” You asked as you waited for the server

“You. I could never quite put it in words but you said it excellently.”

“Really? Aren’t you like a hundred?” You remarked, “You’re essentially the reverse of Vision.”

“Well…I guess you’re right,” He wrinkled his brow, turning as the server neared. “Two shots of tequila…four.” He motioned to Sam and Steve, “It seems I have two tight-asses to loosen up tonight.”

Steve looked as unexcited as you felt. Sam was busy doing all the talking as the first Avenger prayed for his sudden and inexplicable disappearance. The four tequila shots arrived quickly and Bucky doled them out, hushing Steve’s arguments. You took yours with a sigh, not wanting to be ungrateful, and downed it in a swig. You dropped the glass and tried not to burp it up.

“What’s wrong with you?” Bucky leaned closer, “You planning another late night workout?”

“I was…before all this,” You looked over as the others talked noisily, “Look, you don’t have to force…whatever you’re trying to do. What happened in Germany can stay there.”

He narrowed his eyes as he nodded, looking you over subtly as he tilted his head with a shrug. “Alright. I was just trying to be nice…but I think you could use some more tequila.”

“Maybe later,” You brushed him off as you felt a poke in your arm. Nat was standing over you, “Hey, let’s go. Wanda wants to dance.”

“Uh, sure,” You stood, anxious to get away from your couchmate, “I’m guessing the guys aren’t here for the tunes.”

“They’re just as happy as you,” She replied dryly, “For god’s sakes, Y/N, have a little fun.”

* * *

Despite yourself, you had actually followed Nat’s advice. After a few more drinks, you were enjoying the dance floor, the music lulling your tipsy ears. Even Pepper seemed to be relaxing and you had forgot the awkward start to the night. In hindsight, it hadn’t been such a bad idea and you could wait until tomorrow to hit the gym.

Plus, the alcohol would help you sleep.

With all the bodies around you, the air had grown thick. You pulled your top away from your sweaty stomach and whispered in Nat’s ear that you’d be back. You squeezed yourself between other dancers, heading for the door. You untangled the tie from your hair and let it fall around your shoulders, the cool night air cooling your ski as you stepped out onto the street.

You caught your breath as you leaned against the brick facade, staring at the empty street. A few cars passed here and there but it was much too late for a deadlock. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, trying to gain a sense of control over your hazy mind. You smiled to yourself, basking in the liquor-induced bliss.

“You leaving?” You opened one eye to look at Bucky. You really wished he would stop sneaking up on you.

“Not yet,” You opened your other eye and pushed yourself from against the wall. “You?”

“No…I thought, I don’t know, I saw you go and….” He shrugged, looking out to the moonlit tarmac, “I guess I’ve noticed you’re not very skilled at saying good-bye.”

“What did you want me to say, Bucky? ‘Thanks for the fuck, have a good one?;” You retorted, “It wasn’t as if you said much either. I really think it better if we just forget everything.”

“Forget it?”

“It was a moment of weakness, for both of us,” You put your hand on your hip lazily, “Really. I think it was just my way of getting you to shut up.”

He smiled despite your curtness. “I don’t think it was a mistake and I don’t think you feel that way either.”

“Oh, and _you_ would know how I feel.”

“I think we both enjoyed ourselves. More than once, if I recall.” You looked away as he stepped closer, “And I think we’ve both reflected on that night long and hard.”

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are,” You grumbled.

“No, but I got you out of your clothes once, I can do it again,” The cold metal of his hand rested on your other hip.

“Not tonight,” You pushed away his hand, turning to glare at him, “I gotta get back.”

You brushed past him and nearly turned back to growl at him as he spoke. “See ya at the gym, then.”

* * *

You hadn’t been too hungover when you woke but you spent most of your day in bed. After the mission and a night out, you didn’t want to do anything. Waking from your latest nap of the day, you rolled out of bed and brewed a coffee, watching it drip into the carafe. A workout would wake you up and it was already past midnight. It would be absolutely desolate this time of night.

You drank your coffee as you dressed and packed your gym bag. You tossed your stuff in the back of the car and drove patiently to the gym. In the change room, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and chugged enough water to refresh yourself. You were starting to feel more up to the task.

As usual, you started on your mat. Stretching out the cramps, your headphones on blast. You were in the middle of your push-ups when you were interrupted. You had thought he was bluffing. Taunting you in a moment of disappointment. Alas, Bucky’s shoes appeared just at the edge of your vision and you looked up to find him watching you.

“Mmm,” You raised your brows, looking away as you tried to ignore him. As you finished, you hopped up and began to drag the mat back to the pile. He took the other end and helped lay it flat. You removed your headphones, hanging them around your neck as you waited for him to speak. “Well?”

“Nice to see you, too,” He smirked. He looked as if he had just finished his own workout.

“Are you determined to hound me at every turn?” You asked.

“I just can’t help myself,” He said, “When you stretch, I get the perfect view of your ass.” You blinked your eyes sharply, a silent warning. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Fine,” You turned away, ready to go. You began towards the dressing rooms as Bucky followed. He sure wasn’t subtle. “I don’t know if you can read,” You spun back to him as you reach the door, “But this is a ladies room.”

“We can go to the men’s room if you’d rather,” His grin was driving you mad. You wanted to smack it off his face. Kiss it away.  _Wait, what?_

“Look, I’ve tried saying this as clearly as I can. Leave Germany where it belongs. In the past, okay? I don’t like to mix my personal life with my work.”

“What about last night?”

“That was for Nat,” You crossed your arms, “Alright? I just…I can’t do this. I don’t have the time or energy. I have a briefing tomorrow morning and–”

“Can’t do what? Have some fun?” He intoned, “It doesn’t have to be more than it was in Germany; astress-reliever, nothing else.”

You stared at him, scrunching your lips as you thought.

“You just look tense,” He said, “As far as I can tell, the only thing that can take the stick out of your ass is a good f–”

“ _Good_?” You smiled tritely, “I didn’t say anything about ‘good’. It served its purpose, but I mean…”

“We both know you haven’t had better,” He preened, “But I can always outdo myself.” His rested his hand on the wall beside your head as he leaned in, “Plus, I hear it burns more calories than an hour on the treadmill.”

You couldn’t help the intake of breath as you looked up at him. Warmth spread across your face as you felt your cheeks colour. If you closed your eyes, you would see him as he was in Germany; his hair messed, chest bare, his hand on your…You opened your eyes as you felt his fingers trailing up your thigh.

“You’ve already ruined my workout,” You said, grabbing his hand before it could complete its path, “Come on then.”

You turned, keeping his hand in yours as you pulled him through the door and into the ladies dressing room. You crossed to the bench before your locker and tossed your headphones on the far end of it. Bucky tugged his hand from your grip and began to caress your shoulders, moving aside your ponytail to kiss your neck as he pressed himself against you from behind. You could feel his excitement prodding you through his shorts.

His hands ran the length of your torso, curving along your hips until they settled on your butt. He squeezed roughly as he leaned closer, causing you to bend over the bench. His movement was hurried, hungry. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your shorts and tugged, bearing your bottom as he purred. His hand reached down your stomach and along your pelvis, pressing between your lips as you parted your legs as far as your shorts would allow.

He played with you as he freed himself from his shorts with his other hand. You set your hands on the bench to hold yourself steady as he slowly entered you from behind. You couldn’t help the shiver which shook you. He continued to toy with your clit as he began to thrust. He kept his motion steady, cloying, as if he were punishing you for your evasion.

You moaned, wanting more but too stubborn to ask for it. His hand grabbed your ponytail and he forced you to stand, your back arched as he stayed inside of you. He released your hand, snaking his arm around and under your tank. His fingers pressed under the band of your bra, his hand cupping your breast beneath the cotton as he thrust harder but kept the same speed. He was deliberate in his movements; an expert at torment.

You grunted with each pull in and out. His skin slapped against yours, the heat spreading down your legs and trickling up your spine. Your reached back to scratch at his thigh, digging your nails in as he picked up speed. As his motion picked up, you felt the tingle in your chest. He breathed in your ear huskily, his groans driving you further towards your pleasure.

Your pulse flowed down your throat, beating through you, wrapping around your torso and down your legs as your whole body began to tremble. The tension burst, the icy hot sensation rolling in waves, drowning you in ecstasy. You cried out, trying to muffle it as Bucky continued to thrust. He moved his hands to your hips, holding you steady as he got deeper and deeper, releasing a strained grunt as he pulled out quickly and met his peak.

You bent over the bench once more, holding yourself up over it as you paced your breaths.Your shorts had slipped down to your knees and you suddenly felt absurd, your ass bared to the dressing room and your shirt twisted with your sports bra. A loud smack came and you felt the stinging across your rear, standing up as you turned punch Bucky.

He caught your hand and chuckled. You were off-kilter as your feet tangled in your shorts. You yanked your hand away to fix your shirts and knelt to pull up your shorts. You felt a slimy moisture along the back of the waistband. “Fuck, you came all over them.” You snapped.

“You have a change of clothes, don’t you?” He raised a brow, he had already adjusted his own shorts.

“Yeah…” You pulled them off and turned to your locker.

“I prefer you without, if I’m being honest.” He commented.

“Mmhmm,” You pulled out your gym bag and searched around for your leggings, “Well, that was delightful but it seems my workout is done.” You held up the soiled shorts.

“So it seems,” He brushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead, “Should you need a work out buddy…”

“We’ll see,” You folded the shorts carefully, not wanting to spread the mess, “Besides, I’ve got an early morning.”

“Me too,” He said, “I’ll see ya, then…” He stepped back tentatively, “Whenever, I guess.”

“Whenever,” You echoed ambiguously, zipping up your bag and slipping it over your shoulder. “See ya.”


	3. Mission Intolerable

You hadn’t showered before falling back into your bed, thus you work up early to cleanse yourself in the steam. It had been a mistake. You woke up feeling dirty, the sweat of your workout and _other activity_ had turned your skin oily. You scrubbed away your regret, though you didn’t really dwell on the carnal slip. You had both enjoyed yourselves even if you found Bucky entirely irritating. He _was_  much more bearable when he wasn’t speaking.

You dressed in the dark blue haze of the early morning, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you filled your travel cup with black coffee. You hoped to see your apartment again within the week but an odd foreboding settled in your chest. Whenever you were walking blind into a briefing, it often meant it would be a tedious mission. The only perk was that it would be an excuse to stay away from Bucky.

You dropped your bag into the passenger seat, setting your mug in the holder. You drove yawning through the city streets, idling behind other commuters. By the time you reached Stark Tower, you were halfway done your coffee. 

You sipped with closed eyes as you leaned against the back of the elevator, the compartment rising slowly. You were more tired than you should have been; exhausted even. The doors dinged as they opened and you dragged your feet down the hallway, entering the briefing room with another yawn. 

You stopped dead as you looked around the table. Steve was sat in the chair across from the one you were about to slump into and Bucky was beside him. You swallowed and set your bag on the floor, hiding your discomfort behind your coffee mug.  _This wasn’t happening…_ He hadn’t said a word last night about having a briefing. Surely, he must have connected the dots when you had mentioned it.

You smiled at Steve with a groggy “Good morning” and sat down with a repressed sigh. You flipped open the folder which awaited you and tried to lose yourself in the words. You could feel Bucky’s gaze and you knew what he was thinking. The same memories flashed across your own mind and kept your from processing the text before you.

You tapped your fingers along the table edge and re-read the first page. This is why you had felt so weird. You should have guessed. You didn’t want to be trapped on the mission as you fended off Bucky all while trying not to let on your previous entanglement to Steve. You had succumbed to your weakness because you had thought it simple enough to keep it secret; forgotten. Yet it only seemed it was becoming increasingly difficult to sweep it away.

You looked up as you leaned back and finished the last of your coffee. Steve was diligently poring over his folder, slightly turned away from Bucky who hadn’t even bothered to glance at his own briefing. His blue eyes caught yours and he winked, the corner of his mouth twitching in a half-grin. You shook your head at him, raising your brows in a warning. ‘Not a word’, your glare said and he chuckled silently.

You heard footsteps and turned as Tony entered. He looked as tired as you felt. He cleared his throat, scratching his chin as he booted the holographic screen at the front of the room. A map appeared in electric blues and reds, coupled with pictures of sinister looking characters. You turned your chair towards Stark, angling yourself so you couldn’t see Bucky from the corner of your eye and tried to focus on the screen. Somehow, the words were less effective when spoken than read.

* * *

“I’ll catch up,” You said to Steve as he turned back in the doorway, Bucky lingering in the hall.

Steve shrugged and waved Bucky away. You waited until you heard the elevator doors, your arms crossed as you patiently watched Tony fiddle with his phone. “Are you sure you need all three of us?” You asked.

“Yes,” He tucked his phone in his jacket pocket, tilting his head at you, “I need you to keep those two war heroes from blowing everything up. Keep in mind, you’re trying to find an arms factory and those idiots could easily turn it into a powder box.”

“I understand that, but–”

“You also have the most important task. Everyone knows what Captain America looks like and no one is going to trust a man with a metal arm. You’re our mole; our interloper.”

“I’m not asking you to take me off the mission,” You sighed.

“Oh? So who were you asking me to eject?” He scoffed.

You frowned, keeping silent. You weren’t sure why you had chosen to confront him. You were tired and grumpy and wanted to complain. If you told him to dismiss Bucky, it would only pique suspicion. You shrugged and grumbled. “You’re right…I’m just…It’s fine.”

You turned and picked up your bag from beside your chair, hooking it on your elbow as you made for the door. “Hey, you never said how Russia went.”

“We got our mission done,” You paused, looking back at him. Russia had been over a month ago and nothing peculiar had been included in your report. “Hope you got the intel you were hoping for.”

“We got enough,” He answered, “I know Bucky’s a bit of an ass, but he serves his purpose. As much as he gets on my nerves, I can’t deny he’s one of our better operatives…Just be happy I’m sending Steve along. He’ll keep him from being a complete jerk.”

“Yea,” You sighed, turning back into the hallway as you forced yourself to leave. You prayed the mission was fast and easy.

* * *

Steve had agreed to take the wheel for the first leg of your trip. You had forwent an argument with Bucky and let him have the backseat as you sat in the passenger side and went over your briefing once more. He had spread himself out across the back, his feet against the door and uncomfortably close to your headrest. It was as if he was trying to make himself as irritating as possible. Or rather, he was just naturally gifted in that art.

You hadn’t said more than a few words to him; nothing past that which was required to situate yourself and get on the road. Steve appeared oblivious to the tension between you; likely he was used to most people having a prickly relationship with his best friend. Their relationship was special as they bonded over nostalgia and a shared sense of displacement. You understood it, respected it even, but it did not change your ownfeelings toward Bucky. If anything, it irked you. _How could he be so crass to you while maintaining his innocent front in the eyes of Steve?_

You closed the folder, tucking it beside the seat and leaned back. You stared out the window as the landscape blurred along the highway. The back of your seat shook and the bottom of Bucky’s boot nestled itself between the headrest and interior. You growled and looked back over your other shoulder. His eyes were closed, arms behind his head, and a smirk on his lips. You glanced at Steve, his attention engrossed by the road before him.

You reached back to jab Bucky’s thigh and he caught your hand in his. He opened his eyes and his grin grew. “Stop,” You mouthed to him as you ripped your hand from his, “Now.” He rolled his eyes and closed them, shaking your chair once more as he further secured his foot behind your head. You turned back and pulled the lever beneath you so that the seat folded backward, contorting his leg.

“AH!” He sat up, dislodging his foot. Steve seemed to awake at the holler and glanced in the mirror with confusion.

“Sorry,” You said innocently, “I was just trying to get comfortable. I didn’t realize your leg was there.” You straightened your chair and wiggled in your seat.

“Hmmp,” He grumbled, bending his legs as he re-adjusted himself across the backseat. Steve shook his head and stayed quiet.

“We should hit the next rest stop,” You said, “I drank a bit too much coffee…and we can switch.”

“Sure,” Steve agreed, “I’m getting hungry anyway.”

“Me, too,” Bucky chimed, “Could also go for a quick stretch.” You recalled the hunger which had gleamed in his eye as he had watched you the night before in the mirror; bent over and stretching out your hamstring. It had been a coy yet deliberate allusion. You didn’t dare look back at him.

“I could definitely use some air,” You muttered, “It’s crowded in here.”

* * *

You leaned on the side of the car as you stretched. Steve was staring off down the highway as he walked the cramps out of his legs. Bucky opened the back door as he slowly slid out of the car, nonchalant as he stood and gave a loud yawn. His metal hand rested on the car roof and he watched you reach your arms out above your head.

“Right, I’ll see you guys inside. I gotta hit the washroom,” You lowered your arms. Steve nodded but didn’t bother looking at you.

As you made to pass him, Bucky leaned in and whispered , “Need any help?” He winked and you huffed.

“Not now,” You hissed, resisting the desire to smack him.

You marched away from him, the urgency to empty your bladder and to escape him adding to your step. You lingered in the washroom even though your stomach growled. You weren’t sure you could survive the drive with Bucky, let alone the entire mission. He was making it awfully hard to act normally and Steve would start to notice his friend’s little gestures.

You finally left the toilets and set off to order a sandwich from one of the kiosks. You spotted Bucky and Steve among the tables and sat down beside the latter. Bucky smiled through a mouthful of burger and you rolled your eyes. Steve chuckled at his friend and you felt slightly less tense.

You ate with few words, Steve trying to talk out your plan once you reached the safe house. You were to pose as an arms dealer and they would be your covert back up. Once you figured out the location of the factory, the three of you would clear it and turn it over to be dismantled. That was if they kept to the plan.

You crumpled up the wrapper from your sandwich as Steve stood, offering his tray for you to toss your trash on as he gathered the rest. You drank from your water and watched as he walked away searching out the garbage can. Bucky’s metal fingers tapping on the table brought your attention back to him.

“I was thinking–”

“I need you to stop that, or start doing more. I can’t tell which is the problem,” You interjected, “Look, this is a mission. We’re working, nothing else.”

“Come on,” He said, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about last night the whole ride? I suspect that’s the reason you were so eager to hit the rest stop.”

“I was thinking it was a foolish thing to do,” You glanced around, making sure Steve was at a fair distance away, “I’m warning you right now and I don’t want to say it again; stop.”

“Steve’s never gonna catch on,” He leaned back, tossing his hair over his shoulders, “Once we’re at the safe house, we just have to wait for him to fall asleep…”

“No. Not while we’re on the job,” You sighed, “I mean it.”

“Fine,” He shrugged but you saw the pout tugging at his lips, “I can be patient.”

“Oh yeah?” You rolled your eyes and stood, “Well maybe you’re waiting for nothing.”

* * *

You straightened the blazer as you looked at yourself in the long mirror. You looked pretty convincing. You were convincing. You had done this before but you were on a perilous edge. Bucky had relented only in the sense that his innuendoes had grown more subtle. You were almost excited to trade his presence for that of an arms dealer.

You stretched out your neck as you exhaled, steadying yourself as you reached down to pick up your briefcase, another figure appearing in the mirror behind you. Bucky leaned against the window sill as he looked you over. He’d be staying at the house that day.

“I’d sell you a gun or two. Maybe even a nuclear weapon,” He teased, “I’d tell you all my illicit secrets.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You sure a child like you can handle being home alone?”

“Hmmp,” He chortled, “You’ve been so grumpy these last days…think you need to just relax,” He pushed himself away from the window, nearing until he was almost touching you, “You could blow our whole cover being so pent up, you know?”

“Shut up,” You couldn’t deny how uncomfortable the first day had been in the safe house.

You had avoided speaking with Bucky, thus Steve was the only one to have a healthy conversation among the three of you. You hadn’t said much to either however. You had been going over the plan for the next day. You were the only one going into the field; Steve would be watching from afar in case anything went wrong. He would alternate with Bucky but that troubled you more. You didn’t need him making crude remarks in your ear as you tried to negotiate with a war criminal.

You adjusted your briefcase and squeezed past him, his hand brushing across your hip in the tight space between him and the wall. You felt his fingers twitch but he didn’t act on his obvious urge to pinch you. “Don’t burn the place down,” You warned as you passed by the window, looking out onto the city streets. If this all went sour, those very buildings could be little more than rubble.

“You ready?” You asked Steve as he stood by the door.

He wore his muted blue uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. He smiled and nodded, opening the door. You followed him downstairs to the pair of cars waiting for you. One had been stationed at the safe house; this one you would drive as Steve made his wayin the other to the lookout.

“Hey,” He stopped you as you approached the black car, “You okay?”

“Fine, why?” You frowned.

“It’s just…you and Bucky, you don’t seem to be getting on.” He fiddled with his helmet as he spoke, “Even I can see that.”

“We get on well enough,” You lied; relieved he only thought hatred had you turning red.

“Look, I know he can be an ass but I mean, he wasn’t really himself for seventy years. He’s kind lost his sense of social grace.” Steve shrugged, his blue eyes growing sad, “Or maybe it’s because he’s my friend and I’m biased but I think you should give him a chance. He’s not as bad as he pretends to be.”

“I don’t have a problem with Bucky,” You said casually, “Really. Maybe you should have a talk with him.”

“Hmm, I did,” He looked to the side guiltily, “He said the same thing about you.” He scratched his neck and shook his head, “Maybe I’m imagining things, I don’t know.”

“It’s the last thing we need to worry about right now,” You opened the car door, trying to seem nonplussed, “It was a long car ride, for all of us. We just need to get use to each other. Remember our first mission…you didn’t say much those first two days.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” He chuckled, “But you guys had a mission last month, right?”

“We did,” You admitted, ignoring the ice which trickled down your spine, “To Russia. I’m sure you can understand that Bucky wasn’t very happy about the whole thing.”

“Oh,” His brows rose and he gave a nod, “Yeah, he wouldn’t have been.”

“Alright then,” You tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, “Let’s go.” You glanced at your watch emphatically, “I’m sure arms dealers appreciate punctuality even if they  _are_ criminals.”

* * *

Your first meeting had gone off without a hitch. The next would be the most important. Morgan, your mark, had invited you to an auction which would include his other buyers. There you would bid on your purchase and hopefully arrange a follow-up for the exchange. That day it was Bucky’s turn to serve as your back-up.

You had your earpiece in place as you waited for him to confirm his position. You were sitting in the parking lot where the event was to be held. You watched as other buyers entered; some in suits, others in hoodies, and even a few women in body-hugging dresses. Your own attire was a similar pantsuit to the one you had worn before.

“Right,” Bucky grunted in your ear, “Woo. Ready to go.”

“Took you long enough,” You pulled the door handle, stepping out carefully onto the pavement.

“It’s hard to find an entry point that’s not being watched…and the vents are tight,” He grumbled, “Remember, if anything seems off, you signal.”

“Yes, I do know how to do my job,” You mumbled.

“Ever the professional,” He commented and you didn’t respond. You couldn’t keep bantering once you were inside.

You entered with a casual look around the room. Most buyers kept to themselves; competing with each other in a sense. You kept to the back of the room, waiting for the auction to begin. A stage with curtains stood at the front of the large hall; presumably where they would announce the goods.

The greasy haired man you had met days before, Morgan, approached like a snake. He smiled at you, baring his yellowing teeth as he greeted you. You feigned a similar pleasure and returned his hello, keeping your hands folded before you as you had before. You were the conservative agent buying on behalf of your boss; all business.

“I take it you’ve spoken with your boss,” He kept his voice low.

“I have,” You nodded, “He says your prices sound…amenable, of course, we’ll see how the auction unfolds.”

He smiled again, his head tilting as he made no effort to hide his wandering eyes. He had made a habit in your last meeting of leering at your chest. You had learned to ignore such behaviour; it was common among the underground. Besides, you’re blouse hid most of what he was looking for.

“I could offer a discount,” He tore his eyes from your chest, “Ten percent off your bid. My treat.”

“Oh? A generous offer.” You pretended to consider, knowing he what he would ask in return.

“You’re worth more than ten percent off,” Bucky intoned in your earpiece, “But if it loosens his lips…”

“That’s not the type of discount one gets for nothing,” You said.

“Dinner isn’t much,” Morgan urged, “A single meal. Why you must get lonely running around on these errands.”

“I suppose,” You answered vaguely.

“Yes, you must,” Bucky spoke again and you tried not to bristle. “Judging by your enthusiasm in Berlin, missions really do get your juices going. What do you say after this we have a little fun in the car? It’s quite roomy.”

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat, “Sorry. I just…I’ve got to use the ladies room.”

“No problem,” Morgan grinned, “You will consider my offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” You said as you turned, scurrying to find a restroom.

There was a single toilet, inside what looked to be a renovated closet. You turned the latch behind you and stared in the mirror. “Bucky, shut the fuck up.” You hissed, “What kind of shit was that?”

“It’s been three days, Y/N,” He said, “Stuck in that safehouse.”

“I’m sure you’ve gone longer than that.” You muttered.

“Yes, but I also didn’t have your ass constantly reminding me of what I was missing out on.” He replied and you cringed.

“Really, Buck?” You huffed, “This is not the time nor the place.”

Silence. You waited for a response as you turned on the tap and sprinkled some across your cheeks, trying to wash away the heat which had gather along them. “Sorry,” Bucky finally answered, “I’ll be quiet for the night.”

“Right, thanks,” You gripped the edge of the sink and breathed, “It’s gonna be a long one.”

* * *

“You can’t see it?” You pressed down the blouse, your gear hidden beneath.

Steve and Bucky were strapping knives to themselves and holstering guns. The safe house seemed desolate, your bags packed and waiting you in a car awaiting your escape should you need to leave in a hurry. It was the day of the deal; you were to exchange the money for your weapon. You were to meet at the factory where it had been produced; the factory you were meant to secure.

“Here,” Bucky reached over. The usual glint had left his eye and he had turned steely at the prospect of a fight. He buttoned the middle of your blazer dutifully and stepped back. “There.”

“Bucky will be inside, I’ll be on the roof. If we have to act first and you here anything, you move fast,” Steve instructed, “Don’t get into a fight you don’t have to.”

“I know, I know,” You shook out the nerves bundling along your shoulders, “You guys, please try not to blow this shit up. I promised Stark we’d get this place in one piece.”

“We’ll try,” Steve said guiltily, “Well, I’ll try.”

“I’m not making a promise I can’t keep,” Bucky jibed.

You left in separate cars. The briefcase of bills beside you. You followed the directions provided by Morgan; an encrypted file he had loaded into your phone. The night before, Tony had remotely unlocked it, overriding its pre-scheduled upload time. Thus Bucky and Steve would be able to position themselves appropriately.

The factory was one of the only closer to the city core. It was surprising. Hiding in plain sight like that. It was almost clever, but even more perilous. If this factory did go up, it could mean innocent lives were lost. You stepped out with your briefcase and Morgan emerged from the metal door, his smile as slimy as before.

“A lovely day,” He greeted, “If you’ll follow me. We have everything prepared.”

You trailed him silently, gripping the handle of the case. Inside, the factory was loud; machines pumping, hammers, clamouring, the whine of metal. “Ready.” Bucky said in your ear, momentarily echoed by Steve. You breathed out quietly. Morgan led you to a room on the upper level, overlooking the factory floor. You waited for him to remove the shroud placed over your purchase; a gaudy cliched presentation.

You set down the suitcase, your fingers resting on the clasps as you stared at Morgan. “I should like to see what exactly I’m buying.” You said.

Slowly he removed the sheet. The explosive was a twist of metal and glass; fluids flowing through the tubes which would break and combine to form an acidic gas. It would destroy a city block in minutes. You nodded and unclasped the case, revealing the stacks within. Morgan smiled, his yellow teeth souring your stomach.

“Well, it looks like we have a deal,” You made to close the case and a sudden crash came from outside the room. You looked out the door on the window as sparks spouted from several of the machines.

“Fuck,” You heard Bucky swear, “Looks like go time.” His metal arm was grinding off the machines as he made his way to the factory floor.

Morgan approached the door in shock, his hand going to the gun at his waist. You kicked his wrist and hooked your arm around his neck. He pushed you backward and you narrowly angled him away from the bomb. You tripped and he fell atop you but you kept your grip around him. You squeezed harder as he kicked and writhed, knocking the air out of you as you struggled to hold on.

Finally, his movements slowed and he went limp. You cautiously released him, striking him across the jaw for good measure. You secured the case closed and the door began to open, another man trying to get it. You slammed the suitcase into his face and kicked him into the hall, landing another kick as you sent him over the rail and to the floor below.

You turned back and retrieved Morgan’s gun from its holster, quickly stripping to your gear.

“Back up’s on its way,” Steve said in your ear, grunting between words. You could see him just across the factory as he fought off a group of workers. “Y/N, you keep that weapon secure until they arrive. If it goes off, this whole place is gone. Including us.”

Another man approached as you closed the door. You quickly dispersed with him, setting up your front before the office. It was easy enough, you only hoped you held out long enough.

* * *

Stark was generous enough to secure the three of you a jet back to the city. You were relieved. Too exhausted to stomach another long car ride. As you had kept the factory whole, you suspected it was his form of thanking you. You slept for most of the short flight, landing on the roof of Stark Tower. You followed Bucky and Steve inside, yawning in your hand as Tony greeted you. His briefing was short as all of you, even the super soldiers, were tired and rugged. You just wanted to go home and shower.

You left as soon as Stark dismissed you. You gave a curt ‘see ya’ to the others and quickly fled. Your mission was over and that meant your rule was no longer applicable. You knew exactly what would be going through Bucky’s head. You took the stairs to avoid sharing your exit with him and nearly sang as you reached your car. It was good to be back. And alone.

Once you started your car, your urgency faded. You were just happy to be back in the city. To be yourself again. Those types of mission were the most exhausting. Pretending to be someone else; associating with despicable individuals. You enjoyed the red lights, taking in the streets as if it was your first time traveling them. As you pulled onto your street, you felt a sudden prod of uneasiness.

You glanced in your rear view mirror and pulled in. You didn’t bother grabbing your bag from the backseat, pocketing your phone as you walked calmly to the front door. You fumbled with your keys deliberately and pulled the door open, wide so that it would close slowly. You entered, reaching the first corner quickly and tucking yourself into the alcove beneath the stairs.

The footsteps which followed were not hurried, though they had obviously been following you. As your pursuer turned the corner, you kicked their knee and shoved them into the opposite wall. “Are you serious?” You snapped at Bucky, “You followed me home?”

He grinned and glanced away before his blue eyes settled on you. “I don’t have your number. Weird, considering I’ve seen you naked.”

“You never asked,” You narrowed your eyes, “But I’m sure you could’ve figured out how to get your hands on it. You  _are_ skilled in being underhanded.”

“Y/N,” He grabbed your arm, forcing it away from him as he separated himself from the wall, “It was a long mission.”

“It was,” You agreed, pulling away from him and putting your hands on your hips. You looked him over, licking your bottom lip in thought but it must have seemed a flirtation. The tension lingered. That unbearable pressure which had previously driven you to temptation twice before. This time worse.

“Do you like beer?” You relented.  _Was it so bad if you invited him up to your apartment?_  You could get it done and over with and send him on his way. Plus, you really needed a drink.

“I’d love a beer,” He said, “Is that an invitation?”

“One beer,” You stated, you held up your index finger, “One.”

“One’s enough for me,” He grinned.

Bucky followed you up the stairs and you didn’t need to glance back to know where he was looking. His hand assured you of it as you felt him squeeze your butt and you swatted him away. You led him into your apartment, tossing your keys on the counter as you flipped the light switch just outside the kitchen.

“Just in there,” You directed him to the living room as you entered the kitchen.

You could see into the other room from there, confident that he couldn’t get into too much trouble. You grabbed two beers the fridge, uncapping them and passing into the next room. Bucky sat on your couch, his arm spread out over the back of it. You handed him a beer and he took it with his other hand.

You sat in the chair, forgoing the couch as you gulped your beer. You drank quietly, there wasn’t much to say. Over a week together and you were out of stuff to talk about; even argue about. You finished your bottle and set it on the coffee table. Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left you. He set aside his almost empty bottle and patted the couch next to him.

You shook your head and stood. You lowered yourself onto his lap, straddling rather than taking the empty seat beside him. You weren’t in the mood for patience. “This is the last time you’re showing up uninvited,” You warned him.

“Sure,” He smirked, his hands settling on your hips.

You kissed him to smother your retort. If you argued long enough, you might just send him away. You were much too tired to spend a night disappointed and angry. At least this way, you could get some pleasure out of him. He kissed you back, his hands trailing under your shirt, thumbs rubbing your lower stomach hungrily.

You felt your phone vibrate and pulled it from your pocket, setting it on the table before turning back to Bucky. It wouldn’t be important enough to stop. The subtle buzz of the phone’s notifications continued but you ignored it. He raised his arms as he let you pull up the bottom of his shirt and take it over his head. You felt along his chest and stomach, purring at his firm muscles. His body more than made up for his personality.

You moved your pelvis against his growing excitement. You threw your head back as he kissed along your neck, rolling up your shirt teasingly. A sudden banging at the door kept him from raising it further. You pulled away and froze; another knock.

“Hey, loser,” Nat’s voice came through the door, “I’ve been texting you. Heard you were back so don’t even think of ignoring me.”

“Fuck,” You murmured, reluctantly removing yourself from atop Bucky. You straightened your shirt and found his on the floor, throwing it at him.

“Send her away,” He said, not moving.

“You don’t know how persistent she is,” You shook your head, “Now go. Fire escape.” You pointed to the window and gathered up the beer bottles. You hurried to pour out the last dregs and hide them in the recycling bin. Bucky was pulling on his shirt as your returned to grab your phone and Nat banged at the door once more.

“You owe me,” Bucky said as you ushered him towards the window.

“Do I?” You countered, “You showed up unannounced and drank  _my_  beer.”

“Well, then I owe you,” He smirked and winked as he opened the window and hooked one leg outside. You made to turn back and he grabbed your arm, spinning you back to him. He kissed you hungrily. “I left my number on your phone. Text me when you want to finish this.” With that that he swung himself the rest of the way out the window and you listened to the fire escape squeak as he made his descent. You should answer the door before Nat kicked it down.


	4. Broken Protocol

The day had been gloomy. You had spent most of it sitting inside and watching the rain through the window of your apartment. On a rare day with nothing planned, you hated to waste it cooped up. So it was that you had traded your abode for the aromatic comfort of your local cafe. 

It was a small, relatively unknown shop with cushy seating and soothing jazz music softly strumming from the radio. Only those who lived within the block frequented it and it was the perfect spot to isolate but not feel entirely reclusive.

You had finally lost yourself in the book you had been trying to read for the last four months. In that afternoon, you had already read more than you had since first opening its cover. Your cup sat empty, a ring of dry foam along its rim. You would eventually get a refill, just after this paragraph, or at least after this page.

You were half-slumped in the armchair, the bell of the door no longer sounding in your ears as you had grown used to the coming and going of patrons. Voices were a buzz in the background of your mind, your imagination brewing a scene outside reality. Your leg swayed back and forth, the other slung over it lazily.

You heard the sound of a mug on the low table before you, a figure settling in at the corner of your eye. There was a sofa just to your right which had remained empty for most of your visit, but at last, someone had chosen the coveted seat. You were drawn from your book as you felt the uneasiness of being watched and you slowly lowered it. You looked over and elicited a long sigh.

“It’s you,” You grumbled, marking your page with your finger.

“It’s you,” Bucky countered with a grin, “You didn’t text.”

“I didn’t,” You confirmed, “What are you doing here?”

“Was passing through the neighbourhood. Thought I’d drop in for a coffee. Must’ve been fate.”

“Sure,” You glanced out the window. If someone was walking down the street, they’d have been able to see you through the glass.

“Well, what’s with the silent treatment? I’ve been waiting to continue where we left off,” He leaned on the arm next to him, “We were _both_ left wanting.”

You reached up to rub your forehead. It had been a difficult week. You had spent most of it resisting the urge to message him. You didn’t want to seem desperate. Besides, his presence was becoming an unhealthy habit.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You said, “Nat dropping in like that kinda made it clear. I mean, this is really stupid. You and me. I don’t need to be lying to my best friend and you don’t need to be climbing down my fire escape.”

“You’re the one so set on secrecy. I really don’t care who knows. We’re just fucking. It happens.” He shrugged. “You think Nat’s not out getting hers.” You raised your brow curiously, “Not with me. But others.”

“To be fair, I’d prefer to keep it on the down low. You know my rule about personal stuff–”

“Yes, yes, all work, no play,” He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need Tony thinking that we’re messing around on missions. It took me a long time to get where I am and I could lose it because–because…” You shook your head.

“Because you can’t resist me,” He teased, “Fine, we can keep this quiet, but it doesn’t mean we have to stop.”

“I…don’t know,” You swallowed, “I really…I didn’t think it’d be more than a one time thing. I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Neither am I. Seventy years under Hydra’s hold, I don’t need to tie myself down. It is what it is. This tension between us; socially, we don’t mesh but physically…” He smirked, his tongue peeking out for a moment as he thought. “That’s all it is. Sex. Damn good sex, if I’m honest.” You frowned at him. It _was_ good and it kept you from strangling him. “So, what are you drinking?” He took your cup and stood, “I owe you a coffee, at least.”

* * *

You left the coffee shop alone. You had restrained from inviting Bucky back to yours to finish what had begun the week before. It had been tempting but you were adamant. If this went any further, you wouldn’t stop. The more you did it, the more you wanted it.

Besides, the next morning you were to leave for another mission. You and Nat had an early flight to Wakanda and would be there for a least a few days. You needed to sleep before you were running around the globe once more. Even so, as you dragged yourself back to your apartment, you couldn’t help but think of what you had passed up on.

You locked your door and tossed your bag on the counter as you passed the kitchen. It was dark, the streetlight streaming in through the window. You entered your bedroom, kicking off your shoes as you switched on the television, loading up a random DIY video on Youtube. You never had the time to build your own bookshelf but it was easy enough to watch.

You fell onto your bed, the silver light of the moon highlighting the wrinkles of your bedspread. Your phone lit up and you looked at the screen. Facebook. You could check it in the morning. You had half-expected it to be Bucky but you hadn’t yet dared to text him and he still didn’t have your number. It was better that way. Easier to stay away if he couldn’t contact you.

You closed your eyes as you listened to the narration. Bucky’s face flashed through your mind. It was almost as if you could feel his fingers on your hips, firm against your flesh. Your pulse raced thinking of him; of your little adventure in the dressing room. It had been so quick, so rough. No thought, just carnal need.

You fingers twiddled on your thigh, resisting the urge to stray further. You should’ve asked him back. It didn’t have to be anything more than it was. You didn’t want his arms around you or his kisses. You only wanted him against you; inside you. It was a primal desire; practical, not passionate.

You twitched as your fingers slid beneath your waistband, feeling the soft hair beneath. You reached further, moaning quietly as you stroked your clit slowly. You had been a fool. Stubborn. You always had to overthink, except when you weren’t. When you forgot your morals and let yourself wilt beneath Bucky’s gaze.

It came back to you. Germany. He had been patient but determined. You had been mad with pleasure as he turned you over. Despite the loathing which lingered between you, it felt natural. All that anger he had stoked from you released at the moment of climax. You bit your lip as you shuddered, your nerves lighting up like a circuit board.

You eased yourself down from your peak, steadying your breath. Then shame. Guilt. _Had you really just done that? While thinking of Bucky?_ The act had never felt so dirty. You pulled your hand from inside your pants and buried your head beneath a pillow. You groaned.

You could forget about everything in Wakanda. A few hours sleep and you’d be far away from him. Far away from temptation.

* * *

Three days in Wakanda went by fast. You had expected that mission to be as long as any but you were essentially acting as reconnaissance for the king. Having observed the targets; a group of conspirators plotting against the royal family, you turned in your evidence and were dismissed. King T’Challa allotted a private jet for your trip home but it had all felt too quick. For once, you didn’t want to be home.

Nat didn’t seem to notice your mood. For most of your mission, you had been quiet. You had failed to distract yourself with your objective and instead mulled over what awaited you at home. You couldn’t avoid Bucky, no matter how hard you tried. Sooner or later you would be forced to face him again. It was up to your own discipline to resist him but you didn’t have much of that; at least not personally. The stresses of your work overflowed and you spent much of your spare time self-medicating. Alcohol helped you forget, but seemed less potent since your lapse in Berlin.

“You’re gonna hang out for a while aren’t you?” Nat asked, tearing your mind from your dread.

“Yeah, I guess,” You shrugged, “Haven’t got anything better to do.”

It seemed the perfect way to keep yourself from another mistake. From opening your phone and texting the number you didn’t dare look at. Nat was your safeguard.

“Wow, thanks. Nice to know you enjoy my company so much,” She replied dryly, “You really need to cool it, Y/N…you’ve been so on edge.”

“Mmm, yeah,” You leaned your chin in your hand, “I need a vacation…”

“Don’t we all,” She chuckled, her finger flicking across her phone screen, “But drinking with me will have to do, won’t it?”

“It will,” You sighed. If you passed out at Nat’s, you wouldn’t be able to text Bucky. You wouldn’t even think of it. “You have whiskey right?”

“I have everything we need,” She smiled.

* * *

You had spent the better part of an hour on Nat’s couch. She had been fiddling around her townhouse but you were nonplussed by the activity. You were tired and nursing a whiskey and coke to ease your burgeoning headache. You sat up as you took another sip, clinking coming from the kitchen. You weren’t quite sure what she was up to but she hadn’t sat down since you had arrived.

You took your drink and found your way to the kitchen. Your eyes went wide as you saw the rows of liquor lined up across the counter; bottles and cans of varying sizes beside a stack of plastic cups. The stove gave off a bubble of warmth and Nat was patiently pouring ice into a cooler.

“What the fuck?” You set down your glass.

“Hmm,” She looked up as she began to place drinks in the ice, “We need a bit of fuel for tonight.”

“I think that’s a bit much for the two of us,” You frowned, crossing your arms, “Who else is coming?”

“I don’t know, just a few people,” The oven beeped and she searched around for her oven mitts, “Wanda, um, Vision, of course,” She opened the stove and you squinted at her. She had changed into a rather short dress and you still wore the jogging pants and loose tee you had sported on the plane. You looked near-homeless next to her. “You know, friends and whatever. Don’t worry, it’s no one you haven’t met.”

You prayed that didn’t include a certain someone you knew more than you liked to admit. You inhaled in frustration and slowly took your drink, hoping to drown your anger in whiskey. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Because you’re no fun,” She chimed and a knock sounded at the door, “That’ll be some of them. Would you be a dear?”

“You’re lucky I don’t pour this down your back,” You threatened, begrudgingly turning to answer the door. You were relieved to find only Wanda and her other half on the other side. They entered with short greetings and found their way to the front room. You were half-tempted to grab your shoes and leave. Another knock sounded as you closed the door and you hesitated.

You tore it open, almost exclaiming at the pair between you. They were the last people you expected but they were a welcome sight. “Thor,” You smiled, warily glancing to the other god, “Loki.”

“Y/N,” Thor seized you as he always did when you met. He wrapped you in a warm hug, lifting you slightly off your feet in the process, “We did not know you were to attend this event.”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” You replied, “What brings you around these parts?”

“It is my brother’s name day and I said we must do something and Lady Natasha fortunately invited us.” He reached back to pat his brother’s shoulder. Loki snaked by with a sneer, grumbling under his breath.

“Happy birthday, Loki,” You offered weakly as he stomped past you.

“He is having his mid-age crisis,” Thor explained, “I told him that crease on his forehead, you know the one when he is annoyed, has grown deeper. He was looking in the mirror for nearly an hour.”

You could’ve laughed at his recounting but three figures approached from the street, slowly making their way up the steps as they chattered. “Fuck,” You whispered, “Thor can you, uh, show those three inside? I gotta go help Nat.” You didn’t wait for an answer as you fled into the kitchen. You offered to help Nat hoping that you had not been spotted by the last set of guests. Thor’s thundering voice calmed you as he greeted them and you kept your head down as you placed appetizers from the cooking sheet onto a platter.

“Hey,” Nat caught your hand and you dropped the spinach stuffed pastry, “You need to get changed.” She declared, “This is a party, not a sleepover.”

“I need to leave,” You muttered.

“You know where my closet is. Now go before I strip you down right here,” She let go of you and took up the task of snack arrangement. “Don’t even think of hiding in there because I will find you.”

You scowled and finished what was left of your drink. The hallway was no longer crowded and you snuck across, scurrying into Nat’s room. You flipped on the light and reluctantly crossed to her closet. You began to lazily look through the hangers; none of the dresses would reach past mid-thigh. You could take your time changing at least.

You took a dark blue dress from the crowded closet, not paying much heed as each dress was little different from the last. You undressed and squeezed yourself into the garment with a grunt. Well, you hadn’t noticed that it had no back. At least it had a high-collar; as long as you approached people from the front, you’d be fine.

“Yoo hoo,” Nat frightened you as she entered without warning, “Oh, nice. Excellent. Here,” She reached in the closet and tossed some shoes at you. “They’re low enough.”

They were kitten heels and better than the dozen pair of stilettos which filled her shoe rack. You slipped them on and crossed your arms. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too,” She smiled, “Look, I was tired of hanging out at your apartment and doing nothing. This was the only way to get you out of your funk.”

“I went to the nightclub.”

“That was weeks ago. Nearly a month now. You know, fun is not an annual holiday,” She opened the door and waved you out, “Now, out with you.”

“Ugh,” You dragged your heels and she chuckled.

“You can do what you always do and hang out with the food,” She teased, “I bought extra but you might have to fight Thor for your share.”

You uncrossed your arms and followed Nat into the front room. You avoided looking at the corner where you knew Bucky was. He had arrived with Sam and Steve and the three of them were a speck in the corner of your sight. You looked around, searching out an alternative. Thor was shovelling cocktail weenies into his mouth and Loki was standing like a vampire in a corner. The wrinkle in his forehead _had_ become more noticeable. Vis and Wanda were halfway to making out on the couch and you were halfway to being sick.

You crossed to the cooler and pulled out the whiskey and a can of club soda. You meticulously poured yourself another drink, making that your sole purpose. You didn’t need to socialize. You could keep company with your cup.

“Alright, everybody,” Nat called out as you took your first sip, “Stop being misers and every grab a seat around the coffee table.” You turned to see Nat shoving a beer into Steve’s hand as she spoke, “We’re gonna play a drinking game to loosen you up.”

Loki’s groan echoed your soul. Thor cheered through his mouthful of food and swiftly dragged his brother to one of the couches. You were one of the last to sit, your only option a cushion set out on the floor. Across from you was Bucky who looked only too happy to be straight in your eyeline.

Nat set out the large glass and a deck of cards, explaining the rules of Kings to the circle. You put down your drink, knowing that you’d be drinking more than you’d like throughout the game. Your eye was caught and you looked up, Bucky winked at you. You rolled your eyes and looked away. Getting drunk didn’t seem like such a good idea now.

* * *

You were the least lucky person in the world. It was a gift, truly. You had been lousy at Kings and after downing the mixture of liquor in the center cup, you felt as if you were floating. And not in a good way. This was the type of airiness which robbed you of sense; your self-control was as far gone as your sobriety.

You stumbled away from the table in the panic. _Why was Bucky looking at you like that? Why were you looking at him?_ You nearly tripped on your way to the kitchen, filling your cup with tap water and chugging as if it would cure the spinning. You had made a grave mistake. You should have chanced Nat’s wrath and fled for your life.

Oh, but now all you could think of was how you needed to be touched. You felt the dull pulse forming in your pelvis. The longing blooming and every time you had met Bucky’s eyes it had only gotten stronger. You could’ve have jumped across the table but that little voice, the one which had grown quieter with each drink, warned you against it.

You finished your water and belched. You set the cup down and gripped the counter. _Why?_ You thought of the night after the cafe and shook your head. You had been so weak. Thinking of Bucky. _Ugh_ , you were disgusted by yourself. Yet, you still felt the heat spreading through you.

You shook yourself, listening to the voices from the other room. You just need to make it a little longer. As you left the kitchen, you vowed not another drink. You slipped past Nat before she could draw you in and planted yourself behind the snack table. The food would absorb the alcohol. Or at least give you reason to be hiding against the wall.

“Lady Y/N,” Thor surprised you as he came out of nowhere. Loki was at his side looking little better than yourself. “We must say our farewells,” He caught his brother’s elbow as he wobbled, “Your Midgardian brew had taken my brother’s wits.”

“I am fine,” Loki slurred, missing the punch he aimed towards Thor, “We are merely–” He burped, pausing as if there was more to follow before continuing, “We are bored of your Midgardian festivities.”

“Okay,” You laughed, “It was nice seeing you…Thor,” You made it clear that Loki was as prickly as ever. He never got along with anyone but his own brother. You gave the blond Asgardian a hug, giggling at how he lifted you once more off the floor and watched them go quietly. It was a good sign. It meant you could leave soon without having to explain yourself.

You waited until Wanda and Vision looked to be getting ready to go and snaked your way across the room. You fell onto your butt in the hallway, pulling yourself up by the door handle as you grabbed your bag from where you had left it. Nat could keep your crummy clothes if it meant you were out of there.

“Hey,” Nat’s voice made you freeze as you slung your bag over your shoulder, “You better be taking a cab.”

“Yes, yes,” You hissed, hoping not to draw too much attention.

“Good, because these guys need to share,” She waved Steve, Bucky, and Sam into the hallway, “I figured you’ll all fit into one taxi.”

“No…” You said quietly. Bucky was smiling and nodding and you were mortified. If you said no, it would surely draw suspicion. “Uh, fine, I guess.”

“Good,” Nat neared you, “Make sure they get home in one piece. I haven’t seen Steve so drunk before.” She laughed as Steve leaned against Sam and earned a scowl in return.

You grumbled and waited for the round of goodbyes that ensued. You were curt with Nat, drunkenly paranoid that she knew about Bucky and was setting you up for disaster. You followed the three down to the street where Sam hailed a cab and fell into the front seat with a hiccup. You decided it was best to go nearest to furthest in drop-offs, which meant you were last. 

You touched your forehead, inhaling the night air flowing in through the window. It lulled you, soothed your swirling mind, and you felt the warmth of alcohol crawling up your body. Before you had the sense to resist it, you were asleep, forgetting everything around you.

* * *

You vaguely recalled the sensation of being carried. Your mind was thick with the absurd dreams of intoxication. Slowly the alcohol began to seep away, your slumber growing thinner. Your stomach was bubbling and a dull pulse formed in your temple. You snorted as you woke up on your back, a slat of sunlight straight across your face.

 _Where the fuck were you?_ You sat up in the strange bed, the plain grey comforter temptingly soft. You would prefer to nestle deeper under the covers and fall back asleep. Instead you forced your feet over the side of the floor and stood with a waver, gripping your head with a groan. There was loud snoring coming from another room, a buzz through the wall.

You still wore the blue dress you had stolen from Nat. You pulled down the skirt which had ridden up in your sleep. You groggily opened the door and tiptoed along the hall, the source of the snoring unveiled as you entered the living room. Bucky’s metal arm hung over the edge of the couch and his brown hair covered his face. He sounded as if he had swallowed a bullfrog.

You glanced around, keeping your footsteps light as you searched for your bag. You gave a silent curse as you spotted it on the coffee table in front of Bucky. You crept across, trying not to creak on the hardwood. You reached out to grab it and nearly shrieked as you felt metal fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Bucky rasped, “Morning, sleepy head.”

“How did–What happened?” You pulled away from him, leaving your bag where it sat.

“You fell asleep in the cab,” He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with a yawn, “Sam already had to help Steve to his door so I figured I’d take care of you.” You frowned, trying to remember anything past leaving Nat’s. “Don’t worry, nothing happened. You tried but I knew it was the alcohol talking.”

His smirk made you growl and you went to snatch your bag. You had no doubt that in your drunken stupor you had been a fool but you didn’t need his teasing. “It was one-hundred percent the alcohol,” You muttered.

“Wait, wait,” He stood, clutching his forehead as he steadied himself, “Please, I’m only being funny. Come on, Y/N. I slept on the couch. Nothing happened.”

“And I appreciate that,” You said, “But I should go.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.” He replied, following you as you tried to find an exit, “Hey, wait. Let me make you breakfast. You’ll feel better. I’ve got some Advil around here somewhere.”

“I don’t want breakfast,” You snapped as you turned back to him, “I want my shoes and I want to go ho–” You covered your mouth as your throat burned. You closed your eyes as you fought against the sudden wave of nausea. You cleared your throat as it passed.

“Sit down,” Bucky took your bag, “Before you make yourself sick.” You watched him as he tossed your bag behind him on a chair and passed by you, heading into his kitchen as he started clattering dishes.

You looked around for the kitten heels you had lost sometime during your sleep but all that you saw were sneakers and combat boots. They were much too big for you as tempted as you were to steal a pair. You groaned and clutched your stomach. You were somehow sick and yet you felt unbearably empty. You sighed and reluctantly entered the kitchen.

“Here,” Bucky handed you two tablets and a glass of water, “Go sit at the table and get that down while I make some breakfast.”

“Ugh, breakfast?”

“It sounds awful now but once you smell it, you’ll feel much better,” He squeezed past you as he opened his fridge, “I also have some orange juice. That always helps me.”

“No, I’ll just have the water,” You surrendered and made your way into the next room, a small square table with two chairs stood central to the space. You sat down, nearly spilling your water as Bucky’s head appeared in the kitchen door. “Use a coaster,” He pointed to the stack on the table, “I just refinished that table myself.”

You slowly reached across and set a coaster down before tossing back the Advil and a gulp of water. You placed your glass atop the coaster and looked around. The dining room opened into the front room, a set of sliding doors looked out onto a balcony with a whole garden along its rail. Flowers of every colour bloomed in the sunlight. Your own attempts at botany had never been so successful.

The decor was mismatched but not in a gaudy manner. Much of Bucky’s furniture looked to be half a century old; in style but not in condition. It was like stepping into an antique shop. The only thing that dated from this century was the television mounted on the wall. You hadn’t expected his apartment to look like your grandmother’s house. To be fair, you had never given much thought to his abode.

“I hope you like cheese,” Bucky called from the kitchen, “Because you haven’t much of a choice.”

You grunted in response and drank some more water. Your stomach began to growl noisily at you. _Just eat. Have breakfast and go,_ you told yourself. You didn’t have to stay past the meal. There was hope yet. _Right?_

* * *

You felt much better. Bucky had been right. If you had walked out of there, you were certain you would’ve spewed all over the hallway. Once the food settled in your stomach, you felt like a new person. The Advil had kicked in but you hadn’t yet shook that underlying anxiety. You caught yourself staring at your host, your eyes guiltily straying to his chest, his tank hugging the lines of his muscles.

You shook your head and stood. You took your plate, passing into the kitchen to rinse it off. You needed to leave, now. Your drunken dreams were starting to return to you and they had not been innocent. It was only lucky you had woken up in Bucky’s bed alone. You scrubbed away the last of the cheese from the plate and set it in the rack.

You were so consumed by your guilt, that you hadn’t noticed Bucky. He set his plate on the counter, pressing himself against you so that your butt grazed the front of his shorts. You gulped and made to pull away. His hands caught your hips and held you in place. His nose brushed your hair as he leaned in, his breath hot along your ear.

“You don’t have to hurry out of here.” His voice was low, sultry, “Not really fair after last night.”

“Last night?”

“You can’t tease me like that and just leave me to suffer.” His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you closer to him.

“I was drunk,” You pleaded, “ _Really_ drunk.”

“So was I but I wanted you,” He nuzzled your neck, “Still do.”

“We can’t. I told you. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? It’s better than thinking of me as you lay in bed alone.” His fingers played with the hem of your skirt, “Touching yourself.”

“Bucky,” You grabbed his hand before it could go further.

“Oh, you told me all about it.” You were crushed between him and the counter, “We both know there’s nothing like the real thing.”

You closed your eyes. _You just couldn’t stop, could you?_ The shudder which ran through you gave away your desperation. His touch was driving you wild. It had been so long since you had felt any but your own. _Were there not other men out there? Someone you didn’t have to work with?_ It was entirely unprofessional; irresponsible.

But you weren’t working.

“Shit,” You sighed, squeezing his hand, your legs trembling. Bucky kissed your neck, his teeth nibbling here and there as you tried not to squirm. “I should go.” 

“You should,” He continued to kiss you, “Really, you should but you don’t want to.”

“Goddamn, Bucky, don’t do this,” You tried to push him away but only closed the space between your butt and his growing erection. The fabric of his shorts did little to hide his excitement.

“Say it now and I’ll let you go. Tell me no and it’s done,” Your thumb ran across the back of his hand as you tried to find the will to say it. You bit your lip and let go of his hand.

“Fuck,” You turned around to meet his lips with yours.

His hands went to your butt, kneading as he pinned you to the counter. Slowly, he found his way to hem of your dress, tugging it up an inch at a time. He pushed your panties down your thighs until they fell to your ankles. You stepped out of them clumsily and his fingers trailed along your pelvis.

His metal hand held you to him as he found your clit, rubbing circles cloyingly until you began to twitch. He dug his teeth into your neck as he caressed faster and faster, your breath hitching as airy moans escaped your lips. You arched against him, pulling him closer as you threw your head back. You cried out as you reach your climax, the sudden burst of warmth tingling across your skin.

Bucky continued to play with you until your breath slowed, though the moans still slipped from you. He pulled away and his hands were once more on your butt, as he lifted you. You hooked your legs around him as he removed a hand to push down the belt of his shorts. You hugged his shoulders as you held yourself up and he positioned himself along your opening. You lowered yourself onto him and he groaned. Carefully you began to move yourself.

He reached up, pulling your dress aside so expose your breast. He cupped it, kneading it as he helped guide you. He lowered his head to take your nipple in his mouth, suckling and teething at as a peculiar sensation spread through your chest. You could feel the swelling once more, the throbbing as he moved within you, harder and harder. You dug your nails into his shoulders as you came, the cry which escaped you was pathetic.

Bucky raised his head, smirking as your cheeks coloured from your embarrassment and your climax. He thrust into you deeper, pushing up against the counter to steady you. Your butt was rested on the marble as he began to toy with your clit once more. You leaned back as far as you could as he carried his motion, seconds between your last orgasm and the next. Your legs shook, tensing around him as you bit your lip against the endless moans.

You couldn’t handle anymore. The heat was mounting, the sweat mixing with other juices. You reached down, swatting away his hand. You felt around, tickling his sack and watching in glee as his eyes flashed. You smiled as he grunted louder and louder, little yeses sounding between breaths. He exclaimed as he pulled out suddenly and you brought your hand to his shaft, stroking him as he met his peak, his fingers clawing at your thighs.

You slowly rescinded your hand as he helped you back to the floor. You looked down at the dress, askew and stained with his semen.

“Sorry,” He made no move to adjust his shorts, his member till hard, “I can wash that for you.”

“It’s fine, it’s not mine anyway,” You shrugged. It really was Nat’s fault for tricking you.

“Do you…” He glanced down at himself. His desire had not softened, “Wanna take a shower?”

“Hmmm,” You reached out, taking him in your hand as you rubbed your thumb around the head of his cock. He shivered and moaned. “Well, I need to now, don’t I?” You grinned and released him. He exhaled shakily and hid himself under his shorts.

“Come on,” He said, smacking your ass as you turned for the kitchen door, “I won’t make it to the shower if you keep teasing me like this.”


	5. Out of Action

You rolled away just as the bullet grazed your shoulder. You felt the force of it but it wasn’t close enough to fray your jacket. You landed heavily on your back as you kicked the legs out from under your adversary. The facility was a cacophony of gunfire and shouts. You knocked the man’s gun from his hand with your heel, bringing your foot back to strike him in the nose as he fell. The platform shifted under you, the scaffolding trembling before collapsing, crashing into the levels below it as you landed in a pile of wood and steel.

You coughed as you felt a pang in your leg, your right limb reverberating in agony. You tried to sit up but found your leg caught under a mountain of rubble. You groaned, catching sight of your enemy now impaled on a spike of rebar. Your hand shook as you attempted to clear the debris from atop your leg, unable to move it without a shock of violent electricity.

“Damn it,” You reached up to touch your earpiece, readjusting it, “Steve, Sam. Someone? I’m…trapped.”

“Where are you?” Steve asked as you laid back, footsteps neared but they were heavier than those you knew.

You glanced around, the handgun you had kicked from the man’s grip inches away from your reach. You contorted as Steve once more asked for your location and turned just as another enemy appeared beneath the tent of bent metal and splintered wood. You grasped the gun and swiftly aimed it at the man, the bullet hitting his thigh. He fell, his own shot narrowly missing you. You fired again, extinguishing your new threat with a grim splatter of blood.

“In the pile of shit,” You answered at last. “You may have noticed the avalanche.”

“You alright?” Sam asked.

“Fine,” You grunted as another pang went through your leg, “Just a little…stuck.”

You checked the gun for bullets and waited as Steve confirmed his imminent arrival. You aimed at the next sound, footfalls on fractured planks, and Steve appeared in his dark blue helmet and muted uniform. You lowered your weapon and sighed. He knelt beside you, looking over the rubble atop your leg.

“It’s broken,” He stated as he began to clear it one piece at a time.

“Most certainly,” You said through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

“Could be worse,” He replied as he lifted the last rod of rebar, “You could be dead.”

“Thanks, Mr. Brightside,” You grumbled, staring at your mangled leg as it was revealed. You hissed at the pain flowing through you. “Guess I’m going to get that vacation I was hoping for.”

“Looks like,” Steve frowned at you, slowly hook an arm around your back and his other under your thighs, “This is gonna hurt but it’s better than leaving you here.”

“Just get it over with,” You huffed, “Fuck.”

* * *

The flight back was terrible. After having your leg set, the pain still nipped at you through the sedatives. When you landed, you were given a bottle of painkillers and Tony was kind enough to let you go without a final briefing. Your status had been changed to INACTIVE.

You were groggy and your pain distant but present. It was a sense of constant discomfort; dull but resonating. Your crutches made your path to the garage perilous. Sam walked with you, making sure you were able to move yourself. You wavered here and there; both out of unfamiliarity with the crutches and the effect of the drugs.

You scowled at your car as you neared it. You had been too distracted by your injury and the haze of the painkillers that you hadn’t thought your trip home out. You couldn’t drive with your cast on. You weren’t even sure you could fit in the front seat.

“You okay to get home?” Sam asked.

“No,” You leaned against the front of your car and pulled out your phone, “Don’t worry about me though. I’ll get Nat to take care of me.”

“You sure? I’m driving Steve. I can fit one more,” He offered.

“You already have to wait for our honorable Cap, better not to bother with me too,” You shrugged, “Thanks, Sam. I do appreciate the gesture, at least.”

“You’re probably right,” He grinned, “I think I’ve had enough your whining.”

You chuckled and said a short goodbye. You had been quite the baby on the flight back  _but could he blame you?_  Your leg had been fractured, you couldn’t walk on your own and you were essentially unemployed. You watched Sam disappear to find his car on the next level. You pulled out your phone, pausing to close your eyes and yawn, long and loud.

There was a halo at the edge of your vision as you opened your eyes. The drugs were lending a soft glow to the harsh fluorescent light of the garage. You smiled but couldn’t explain why as you scrolled through your phone. You pressed down and opened the chat.

You stared at your phone, trying to understand what you were doing wrong. “Hold tight.” Were the last words you read. You carefully lifted yourself onto the hood, nearly sliding off twice before steadying yourself. You slipped your phone into the inside pocket of your jacket and let your crutches lean against the car.

Your eyelids sagged and you wobbled several times. You caught yourself before you could fall off the hood and yawned again. A grey car pulled up and stopped diagonal in front of yours. You didn’t recognize the vehicle. Nat drove a red car with tinted windows. You grabbed one of your crutches, ready to use it to defend yourself as the other clattered to the tarmac.

“Hey,” Bucky appeared on the other side of the car, “You okay?” He rounded the trunk and his brows rose in surprise, “Well, that explains a lot.” You followed his gaze to your leg, the cast ending just above your knee.

“Oh my god?!” You cried out, sliding down the side of the car. Bucky rushed forward to catch you before your foot could bounce off the ground. “What happened to my leg?”

He held you at arm’s length, his lips curling in amusement. “I was about to ask the same question.” He scoffed, “What in the world do they have you on?”

“What? I’m on the earth, dude,” You looked around, “Unless…I thought…it must’ve been a spaceship!”

“Shhh, Y/N,” He set your crutch straight, making certain you were stable before bending to grab the other one. “It’s fine. You’re just a little strung out. I would guess that you hurt your leg on your last mission and they’ve prescribed you some pretty hefty drugs.”

“What? Mission…” You thought; hazy visions of falling shapes raining around you, “The sky fell on me.”

“Okay, okay, come on. Let’s get you home,” He gently took your arm and tried to guide you toward his car.

“No, no! Where’s Natty? I want Natty.” You insisted, searching frantically.

“She’s probably blissfully unaware that you’re having a meltdown beneath Stark Tower,” He said, “You didn’t message her, you messaged me. As I pointed out several times throughout that conversation.”

“I’ll drive myself,” You tried to pull away, “I will not be seduced by you, temptress.” You accused as he continued to angle you to the car. You had little strength to fight him off. “I don’t want the sex again. I’m tired. Please,” He opened the passenger door and you tried to push yourself away from the car. “Kidnap! Kidnap!” You began to shout, “This man is an abductor!”

“Y/N, quiet,” Bucky warned through laughter, finally settling you on the carseat. He pulled the lever to slide the seat back and helped turn you straight; your leg just able to fit beneath the glovebox. “I’m taking you back to your apartment, okay? I’ll make sure to call Nat when we get there and you can talk to her then.”

“You promise? But…is she okay? What happened to Nat? Oh my god, she’s dead.” You were panicking. Visions of your best friend laying bloody in the dirt filled your mind.

“She’s very much alive,” He sighed, “Now please, close your eyes and try to relax.” He touched your forehead soothingly, “Alright?”

“I can’t close my eyes.” You argued.

“Why not?” He was visibly growing annoyed.

“I’ll go into the future.” You grabbed his hand, clinging to him, “I know how clocks work.”

“Okay, just sit there then,” He pried your fingers from his, “Don’t you want to go home and lie down? Maybe have some tea?”

“Yes, yes, I love tea…prosperi-tea…” You agreed, “Chari-tea.”

“Right, I’m going to close the door now,” He stood, “Keep your arms in,” He shut the door and you pressed your face to the window, watching as he took your duffel from beside your car and tossed it in his backseat. He climbed into the driver’s seat and stuck his keys in the ignition, looking over at you as he kept his hand on them.

“If you close your eyes, you’ll be home before you know it,” He said, “Okay?”

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” You rested your head against the seat and shut your eyes, “Future, here we come! This is like that movie with that dude who drives into the year 2000 and he wears that red jacket. You’re the crazy doctor…which would be accurate considering you were born 100 years ago…”

“Right…” He started the car, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your rambling continued in spurts for the rest of the car ride. Your head was spinning and you were too afraid to open your eyes until you came to a stop. The engine died and you listened to Bucky get out, looking over as he opened your door. Through the jumble which was your mind, you knew you were out of it. You had little sense of where or who you were, but there were traces. Vague familiarity and a sense of safety.

You rode the elevator in silence, half-asleep as you leaned on your crutches and Bucky. He gently nudged you as the doors dinged and you stepped out into the hallway. You watched as he searched in your bag and found your keys. “Which one is it?” You barely remembered punching in the code downstairs.

“That one,” You pointed to the keyring.

“My god,” Bucky huffed and began to try each key, finding the correct one on his third try. He pushed open the door and you felt relief. This felt like a place a you knew. The small kitchen, the cozy living room, the pile of laundry in the chair.

“Tea? Thirs-tea,” Your head perked up as you turned back to him, fall as you tangled with your crutches. “Ow.” You let go of the metal traps. “You promised tea. Nat-tea.”

“Okay,” He shook his head and lifted you under the arms, “But first you lay down. Then tea.”

You let him drag you, or rather, carry you into the bedroom. He helped you onto the bed, removing your one shoe and jacket. You caught his metallic arm as he removed your sleeve and you felt tears prick. “You’re a robot? Oh my god. How far into the future did I go?”

“I’m not a robot,” He backed away and spread the blanket over you.

He stood and took out his phone, the dial tone on speaker as he waited for the line to pick up. A voice came from it quickly; one you recognized.

“Hey, Nat, this is Bucky.”

“Bucky?” She sounded more confused than you felt.

“I’m with Y/N,” He explained, “She wanted to say hi.”

“I heard about her leg. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, a bit loopy but–”

“Hi, Nat!” You called out, “I love you!”

“Wait, what are you doing with Y/N?”

“She called me by accident. She was trying to call you but apparently her phone was too confusing.”

“I said ‘Hi, Nat’,” You repeated, crossing your arms like a child.

“Hello, Y/N,” She countered, “Do I need to come get her?”

“No, no, I can handle it,” Bucky said, “She just needs to sleep off the painkillers.”

“Ok…call me if you need anything,” Nat said.

“Will do,” He grumbled as you pouted against the pillow, “She looks about ready to pass out anyways. I should be fine.”

“I’m not going to pass out. I’m the strongest man in the world!”

“Bye, Nat,” Bucky pressed ‘end’ before you could continue on your rant.

You suddenly began sobbing, though the reason was barely clear to you. You covered your face dramatically. Bucky neared and touched your shoulder warily, “What is it?”

“I lied.” You said, “I do want the sex.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” He squeezed your shoulder and stood, “I’m going to make your tea. You gonna be alright for a few minutes?”

“Never,” You squished your face into the mattress, “I’m wrapped in a cocoon of despair and disappointment.”

You pressed your eyes closed. They were itchy and closing them helped. Your breath slowed and you felt the drool gathering along your lip. Within seconds, you succumbed to the drug-induced coma; forgetting the pain spiralling down your leg.

* * *

You woke to a sharp pain in your leg. Your head was heavy and you felt as if you had been sleeping for days. You stretched, careful not to move your injured leg and yawned. You couldn’t remember how you had ended up back at your apartment. You sat up, freezing as you heard movement in the front room. You stared at the slightly ajar door.

You wriggled to the edge of the bed, your crutches set out just beside the headboard. It took you two attempts to get to your feet but moving around was slightly easier than before. You made your way to the door, pushing it open with the crutch. You shambled down the hallway, relieved yet unsettled to find Bucky on your couch.

His legs were stretched out across the cushion and a book hid his face. It was one of yours; a novel recounting the life of Elizabeth I. It wasn’t what you expected him to pick out but your bookshelf wasn’t the most intriguing. Your record player was going, the room filled with vinyl. He had selected from your six piece Sinatra anthology; the smooth crooning echoed by the raindrops tapping at the window.

“What are you doing here?” You grumbled. You felt awful.

“You don’t remember?” He lowered the book lazily, “Really?”

“No, I don’t,” You cautiously made your way to the chair, dropping into it clumsily. A basket of laundry, freshly washed and folded sat beside it. You didn’t recall having cleaned those.

“You wouldn’t,” He grinned and set aside the book. He stood and stretched his arms. He grabbed your duffel from the bench beside the front door and returned, unzipping it and pulling a pill bottle from within. “It seems you took a few too many.”

“They’re for my leg,” You said defensively.

“Of course, but how many exactly did you down?”

“I don’t know, three?” You shrugged, “My leg fucking hurts.”

“You’re suppose to take one every six hours. Not three whenever you feel like it,” He pointed to the label. He stopped in front of you, holding out the bottle with a staunch look. “ _One_.”

You snatched it and sat back, making no move to uncap it. Your leg was screaming but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Well,” You sighed, “I guess I owe you a thank you…for getting me home?”

“And to bed,” He sat back on the couch, legs splayed, “Without molesting you. You needn’t worry about me. You, however, were a bit aggressive.”

“Ugh,” You covered your face with one hand, “Please, forget whatever happened. I wasn’t myself.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” He leaned on the arm, “I took it all with a grain of salt. Most of it, at least. I mean, drugs can only be blamed for words, not ones true desires.”

“Oh god, please don’t.” You cringed.

“Nothing you’ haven’t said to me before,” He smirked, “The general ‘I want you’, ‘I need you’, business.”

“Well, I think I am thoroughly recovered,” Your grumbled, “Those feelings seem to have dissipated.”

“Sure,” He seemed unconvinced. You noticed the small twitch of fabric along the denim of his jeans. You reminded yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead. He was getting himself more excited than you.

“I need medication,” You stood perilously with one crutch.

You fled as quickly as your cast would let you to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. You took one pill, the pain not worth the embarrassment. You finished the water and returned to the living room. You had been so distracted by your effort to ignore Bucky that you hadn’t notice his movement. He was no longer on the couch or even in the front room. You glanced to the window; no sign of escape there.

You looked down the narrow hall; your bedroom door was open and the light had been switched on. You weren’t of the condition to be dealing with Bucky. In the last months, your little romps had become regular but you had kept yourself detached from him. Rarely did you spend more than the time necessary for your pleasure in each other’s company and you could gather he had been squatting in your apartment for at least a day. You didn’t want it to become a habit.

You finally reached your bedroom, finding Bucky on the end of your bed. He had quickly undressed, only his briefs remaining.  _Could he not take a hint? Was a broken leg not enough to deter him?_

“Bucky…” You muttered.

“You broke your leg, not your…other parts,” He winked, “Come on. It’ll be a nice distraction from the pain and besides, I did promise you.”

“Promise?” You raised a brow.

“Oh, you don’t remember that either,” He grinned, “It wasn’t set in stone or anything but the sentiment was there.”

“I really don’t think I can,” You grimaced, touching the top of your cast, “Really, Bucky. I owe you but can’t it wait?”

“Hmmm,” He gave coy frown, “Can it?”

“I don’t know,” You chewed your lip, “The doctor said no strenuous activity.”

“Oh, it won’t be strenuous,” He patted the mattress, “All you have to do is lay back and enjoy.”

You looked at the bed. You knew it was plain on your face how tempted you were. You were tired of being in pain, frustrated that you had been injured, and distraught at the prospect of your pending unemployment. It was all still to sink in but it would be worth it to forget just for a moment before it did. And if Bucky was truly underhanded, he wouldn’t have waited for you to sober up.

“Let me help,” He stood, guiding you to the bed as you hobbled.

He took your crutch and helped you sit. Slowly, he helped you undress. He was meticulous; aware of every part of you. He pulled your shirt over your head and eased your shorts off your legs. He didn’t so much as jolt the wounded limb. Your underwear followed, his fingers trailing along the bare flesh. The sensation snaked across your flesh, sending a shiver along your spine.

Bucky helped you lay back, his tenderness was surprising. Before there had always been an urgency to every move. His hunger drove him; had him tugging at your hair and kneading your flesh. He had lost his brusque manner. He crawled across the mattress, getting on his knees as he straddled only your uninjured leg. He reached up and ran his thumbs across your collarbone, his hands working along your shoulders.

The tension slowly drifted away from you as he continued to massage you. His hands went lower but he did not hurry. He cupped your breast, playing with them before rubbing your ribcage and stomach, his rough palms warm against you. His thumbs kneaded softly, his finger deft at finding every knot and nerve. You let out a shaky moan as he traced your hip bones.

He bent your left leg, his hand exploring your thigh; tenderly along the right. He was careful not to brush against your cast as he leaned over you. His lips made a path from your hips down your pelvis, his hand petting you as he travelled lower. He pressed his thumb along your clit, slowly releasing the pressure as he began to toy with you. He drew circles around it and you twitched with a gasp.

“Bucky,” You bunched the blanket beneath your hand.

He removed his hand and his tongue flicked your clit; another twitch. It sent a pang down your right leg but the agony was dulled by both prescription and pleasure alike. You let out a slow breath as he licked more decisively. You felt his hand along your thigh, pressing at your lips. He pushed inside slowly as he continued to lap, curling his fingers inside of you. His tongue and hand worked together, pushing you closer to the edge.

You grasped Bucky’s hair in both hands, pressing him to you as you leg began to shake. You were moaning and squirming, raising your pelvis slightly as you urged him on. Your nails dug into his scalp as your heart pulsed in your ears and your sudden release brought a yelp to your lips. He pulled away suddenly and looked up at you as you were forced to let go of him.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his blue eyes a swirl of lust and concern.

“No, no,” You assured him, “No. It’s…wonderful.”

He smiled and slowly crawled over you. Even as he kept his eyes on you, he did not jostle your leg. His chest brushed against yours and the fabric of his briefs rubbed against your clit. You reached down and pushed the elastic down, baring his cock as he groaned. He quickly untangled himself from his underwear and righted himself. He buried his hand in your hair, kissing your neck as you angled him. You stroked him cloyingly as the head of his member grazed your opening. He entered you slowly, his fingers entwined deeper in your hair. He began to move within you, thrusting slowly.

You wrapped your left leg around his as he kept his motion steady. His other hand cupped your breast and his lips strayed along your neck and chest. He purred into your skin, nipping softly at your nipple as you arched beneath him. You were stuttering between breaths as your nerves sparked, a cluster forming in your pelvis and suddenly exploding; a flow of electricity limning every muscle.

You rasped out in pleasure but Bucky did not change his motion. He was so deliberate and patient it was maddening. He was groaning and grunting, his mouth at your throat as you hummed, another orgasm followed quickly. He nuzzled in the crook of your neck as his breath quickened, he pulled at your hair, his other hand gripping your hip as his voice got louder and louder.

“Shit,” He swore suddenly, pulling away and stroking himself quickly. He came across the blanket just beside your thigh. He looked up with a guilty smirk, “Sorry.”

You waved away his apology, still out of breath. You reached up to pull your tangled hair away from your neck. Warmth lingered within you; along your thighs and nestling in your pelvis. Something felt different. Likely the drugs.

“You okay?” He asked as he laid beside you, his hand settling on your lower stomach.

“I’m fine,” You answered. Your cheeks were burning in the afterglow. “Tired…” You felt the grumble beneath his palm, “Hungry.”

“I could make a late lunch,” His fingers traced spirals along your waist, lingering along your hips, “You should eat though. The pills will upset your stomach.”

You tilted your head at him but didn’t give his concern much thought. You must have been a real hassle the day before. “Okay,” You gave a half-smile, sitting up but his hand caught your shoulder.

“Nah, you stay here,” He sat up, removing his hand, “It’ll be like breakfast in bed…except it’s mid-afternoon.” He smiled and began to search the floor, pulling on his jeans swiftly, “You should stay off that leg as much as you can.” He neared and bent over you, kissing your forehead softly. He paused and you didn’t dare to move. It was such an intimate act; when you kissed it was only ever rough and starved. Nothing so gentle as that.

He stood and cleared his throat. His metal fingers twiddled as he made his way to the door. He looked back, his eyes evasive, “I shouldn’t be long.”

You nodded and have a forced smile. You touched your forehead. It was as if you could still feel his lips there. _Why had he done that?_


	6. Code of Conduct

Bucky walked out of the bedroom. As soon as he was past the hallway he cringed.  _What was wrong with him? He couldn’t even say what had come over him? What had he done that?_  He had kissed Y/N’s forehead so…tenderly. And he had liked it. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep watching that rom-com on Netflix last night. He groaned as he entered the kitchen, resisting the urge to slam his head in the cupboard.

He leaned on the counter and sighed. He shouldn’t have spent the night. He had wanted to keep an eye on the drugged up woman crying over her own leg but he should’ve left the moment she had woke. Yet he couldn’t have. He found it increasingly difficult to fight his own impulses. To resist her. She used to enrage him, so much so that he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Now, she was starting to scare him.

He tapped his fingers on the counter top and pushed himself away. He focused on his work. He pulled out a pan and the tray of eggs. He had promised her a meal. Breakfast and he would be gone. He set to clattering and clanging his way through cooking, grating cheese and chopping veggies diligently.  _How had everything become so tangled?_

He needed to stop thinking about it. It was nothing. Nothing more than sex. Just thinking of it got him riled and he could feel himself growing aroused. He closed his eyes as the oil sizzled in the pan and fought his own biology. He couldn’t. If he climbed into her bed again he would do something even more stupid.

As he fried the eggs, tried to think of Steve and that time he had thrown up cotton candy last year at the fair. It wasn’t exactly cotton candy coming up, just food coloring and sugar. Somehow it wasn’t doing anything to detract from his longing.  _How was it that he could be reliving one of the most revolting moments of his life and yet all he wanted to do was storm back in that bedroom and snuggle in beside Y/N?_  He was more disgusted with himself than the memory.

He finished the eggs and scraped them onto a pair of plates. He set the table quickly and found a half-empty carton of orange juice and some glasses. He called to Y/N and sat down, staring out the window. The rain was still coming down in sheets but he could use the cleansing shower.

Y/N hobbled out with one crutch. She fell into the chair across from him and her fork nearly tumbled to the floor. She poured herself some juice and took a huge swig. She wore only a loose tank and a pair of shorts. Her hair was a mess and her face still puffy from her prolonged sleep.  _How was it that he still found her so enticing?_

He gobbled down his food, the silence between them tense. Any attempts at small talk turned to short answers or nods. It was worse than before they had started fucking. When he couldn’t stand her and her holier-than-thou attitude. They were both avoiding each other’s eyes and racing to finish their plate.

Bucky won and stood, rinsing his plate and glass. He quickly tidied up the kitchen, pausing as deja vu overtook him. He recalled fucking Y/N in his own kitchen. She had been as frantic as him to get away but she hadn’t been fast enough. Ugh, he wanted to do it again. He looked to the door but she wasn’t there to corner him. It was better that they didn’t.

He returned to the living room and scooped up his jacket. He approached the table as she finished her orange juice. “You think you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Fine,” She gave a half-smile, “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” He shrugged and pulled on his jacket, “I’m gonna go though…I gotta meet Steve.”

“Oh,” She looked less than interested, “Well, I hope you two have fun, uh…playing cribbage or whatever old people do.”

“Heh,” He scoffed. He made a fist as he caught himself ready to kiss her again. He stepped back instinctively and nodded to himself. He tied his shoes clumsily and stood, clearing his throat. “Catch ya later, Y/N.”

“See ya,” She poured the last of the orange juice into her glass, avoiding his gaze. He slipped out into the hall and leaned against her door. “What the fuck, Bucky?” He reprimanded himself, “Pull yourself together.” He pushed himself away from her apartment and began down the hallway. Good thing Y/N was on leave. He could be assured they wouldn’t be on another mission together for a while.

* * *

The furthest you had gotten by yourself was the local cafe. You had taken your usual seat in the corner, a latte steaming and foaming on the table. Your book was open across your lap but you hadn’t read a word. Nat was meeting you. She had insisted you leave your apartment and you had compromised for the small coffee shop. If she wanted you to go further, she’d have to help you drag yourself around.

Your cast had made just sitting down a hassle. You sat on an angle so your leg was beside the low coffee table and your crutches were half under your chair. The barista had offered to bring you your coffee in your state and you couldn’t say no even for your pride. If you had attempted to carry it yourself, it would end up on your shirt instead of in your stomach.

The door jingled and you looked up as a familiar hair of blond hair entered. You missed Nat’s red bob but she suited almost any style. She ordered a black coffee and sat beside you; the same chair Bucky had sat in when he had stumbled upon you there. She set down her mug before giving you a discerning glare. She always had a way of making you feel like a child.

“So look who’s decided to leave her hobbit hole,” She mused.

“Nat,” You groaned, “I’ve been on painkillers and I can barely get around my own apartment.”

“And that means you can’t invite me over?” She scoffed.

You frowned guiltily. After Bucky had left the night after your drug trip, you felt as if your apartment was tainted. If anyone walked in they would know. They wouldn’t really, but you would. It had been over a week since that day. A long, confusing week as you remonstrated yourself for every thought of the super soldier who had left you that way.

“I’m sorry, Nat, I just haven’t been in the mood for company. I get all groggy on the pills and…I don’t really have much going for me. I can’t work, I can’t walk, and I’m realizing my only hobbies are coffee and self-hate.”

“Don’t,” She raised a finger, “I can’t have anyone talking about my best friend like that. Even herself. So here’s what’s going to happen; you’re going to come with me to my place and hang out. Wanda is coming over and we’re going to have some fun, okay?”

“This better not be another impromptu house party,” You grimaced.

“Just us girls,” She assured you, “And I won’t take no as an answer. You’ve still got another leg that could be broken.”

“You know, your threats are really what keep our relationship strong,” You shook your head as you reached for your cup, “My mother always said intimidation was key to genuine friendships.”

“Pfft, I’m sure your mother at least told you you needed to actually talk to your friends,” She raised a brow and sipped her coffee. It was nice to have her around. A healthy distraction from the man who loomed over your mind.

* * *

Wanda was waiting on Nat’s steps when you pulled up. You awkwardly lifted yourself out of the car with the aid of your crutches, feeling ridiculous as you clicked your way towards the townhouse. Wanda smiled at you as she was greeted by Nat and the two of them waited patiently as you ascended the stairs on your own. You were out of breath by the time you reached the door.

Inside, you dropped onto the couch. Nat brought you a glass of wine and despite the warning on your painkillers, you happily sipped from it.

“So,” Nat began as she sat next to Wanda, “Your anniversary is coming up. You must be excited.”

“Yeah,” She was glowing at the mention of Vision, “Three years. We were thinking of a small get together with everyone.”

“You know I’m always up for a party,” Nat smiled.

“Something low key,” Wanda warned, “Not one of your ragers.”

“That would be preferable,” You grumbled.

“So glum.” Nat squinted at you, “Maybe if you got any you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“Hey, I get mine,” You protested, “I just don’t get attached.”

“Sure, sure,” Nat chuckled, “I’m sure you do.”

“And you, Nat? When’s the last time you were in an actual relationship? As I recall, your track record is about as pristine as mine,” You retorted, “You and Bruce didn’t last very long and now you tiptoe around each other like awkward teenagers.”

“Right then, so who is this secret booty call you’ve got?” Nat challenged.

“No one you would know,” You lied, “And it should stay that way.”

“So much for girl talk,” Wanda said, “You never tell us anything about your love life.”

“Love life is an overstatement,” You crossed your arms. This was coming dangerously close to an interrogation. “Besides, I would rather talk about anything but. What about you, Nat? What  _is_ going on with you and Bruce?”

“It’s…over. Like, for real,” She shrugged, “Not really a loss. I’ve been hanging out with someone else…”

“Oh?” Wanda leaned forward.

“You can’t tell anyone,” She grinned. You recalled Bucky once mentioned Nat was getting hers but you had never put much thought into the comment.  _Ugh, you weren’t suppose to be thinking of him_. This was supposed to be a distraction.

“My lips are sealed,” You promised her as much as yourself. If they knew about you and Bucky you could only imagine the reaction. You didn’t need them piling onto the awkwardness of the situation. Forehead kiss and all.

“Well, me and Sam–”

“Falcon?” You nearly choked on your wine, “Oh, Nat, really?”

“What? He’s funny. And surprisingly good in bed.”

“When did this start?” Wanda asked.

“Mmm, couple months ago. Maybe more. We ran into each other at a bar and I just got back from tough mission…”

“Was that with me?” You asked. Recalling running into Sam one night. “I didn’t even realize.”

“That’s because you always go home and early. And for once I was thankful for that.”

“Wow,” You shook your head, “And what is it now? You two still…?”

“We meet up sometimes,” She blushed, “For dinner…”

“Ugh, that sounds awfully close to dating,” You commented.

“It does,” She looked you dead in the eye, “I don’t mind so much. Unlike you I don’t have a phobia of human intimacy.”

“It’s not a phobia. It’s a healthy distance I’ve maintained for my own sanity,” You insisted, draining the last of your wine, “Please tell me you have more of this. I don’t think I can bare much more of this sappy love talk without.”

“In the kitchen,” She countered, “You’re welcome to help yourself,” She grinned at your crutches tauntingly.

“I think…” You stood, your crutch wobbling dangerously as you reached for your glass, “I will.”

* * *

You hadn’t been to Stark Tower in over a month. The last you had been there was the day you had returned from breaking your leg. Tony had invited you to change your cast to an adaptive brace which would allow better mobility and he wanted to check in with you. You were sat on a metal table as they switched out your cast for the binding brace, hydraulics built into it structure though you’d still not be able to bend your leg. Even so it was an improvement.

“So,” Tony leaned against the table, “You’re recovery’s not so bad. Another few weeks and you’ll have that off. Therapy shouldn’t take long and you’ll be back in the field.”

“It feels like forever,” You sighed, “It’s been so boring.”

“Yes, I would imagine,” He gave half-hearted smile, “Which is one of the reasons I’ve brought you here.”

“Oh, and what would that be for? Of what possible use am I with this,” You gestured to your leg.

“You know, it took quite a while for me to figure it out myself,” He teased, “But I’ve thought of something to keep you busy and when you return to work, you would be able to continue–”

The door of the lab swung open and a young kid slid in on a pair of heelies. He did a spin as he steadied himself with one of the tables. “What’s up, Mr. Stark?” He greeted, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were busy. I got your message and–”

“Not busy at all. And for once you’re right on time, kid,” Tony said, “How was orientation?”

“Um, hectic…” The youth answered elusively, “Lots of new people. Big campus.”

“Oh, but I trust we’re not slinging from one to the other,” Tony crossed his arms and stared down the kid.

“No, no,” The kid grinned guiltily, “There’s been some close calls, but I’m never late for class.”

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat, tiring of the paternal banter.

“Oh, yes, as I was saying you’re right on time,” He turned back so that he was between both of you, “Y/N, this is Peter. He’s going to be joining us now that he’s of age. Peter, this is Y/N. She’s an operative, one of my best and as you can see, she’s out of action at the moment but she’ll be your mentor as you begin to  _actually_  work here. I’d do it myself but I’m too busy at the moment.”

Peter’s face brightened and he gave a puppy-like smile. “When she returns to the field, you’ll be joining her for her first mission back. By then, I hope you can handle it.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” He chimed, “Man, this is so awesome. I thought we were just gonna be science bros today.”

“No, Y/N is going to walk you through our operatives handbook,” Tony opened a cupboard and pulled out the tome you had once been forced to sit through. He dropped the heavy book onto the table, “Protocol, code, et cetera. Everything you need to be a responsible operative. You best keep your ears open,” He clapped Peter’s shoulder, “Y/N doesn’t mess around. To be honest, most of my team are terrified of her.” You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “Now, I’ll let you two get to work and I’ll get to mine.”

You climbed off the table and onto your crutches, hobbling towards Peter. “Grab the book, Spiderchild.” You could guess his alias and you had spied him before flitting through the tower.

“Wow, you know who I am?” He said as he picked up the handbook.

“I do,” You followed him out the door as he held it with his foot. He rolled on his heelies ahead of you, curving and spinning down the hallway. “You really shouldn’t do that or you’ll end up like me.”

He laughed and stilled himself, slowing to walk beside you. “So, what’s your superpower?”

“Superpower? I don’t have one,” You frowned, “Not all of us are super soldiers.”

“Oh…you must know Natasha then,” He smiled.

“She’s a friend,” You answered curtly, “I know most of the operatives here.”

“Wow,” He was endearing and you couldn’t help but like him. “My favourite is Captain America but he told me to stop calling him that. I just think Steve is so boring. So I was calling him Star Spangled Stevie and he liked that even less. I didn’t even know he could get angry–”

Your crutches squeaked and you reached out to still the restless youth beside you. You had nearly collided with another coming around the corner. You were pained to find yourself staring back at Bucky. His dark jacket was dirty and his hair oily. He must have just returned from a mission. You always had pristine timing.

“Sorry, Mr. Bucky,” Peter said, “We didn’t see you.”

“It’s fine,” He shrugged, his eyes lingering on you for a moment.

“Barnes,” You greeted stiffly.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Training the kid,” You stared back at him stonily.

“Oh? Even with…” He looked at your leg, “That?”

“I still have a brain,” You grumbled. The tension rising around you was making it hard to stand still, even with your crutches.

“I didn’t mean that, I just…” He looked between you and Peter, “I should go.”

“Mmhmm,” You stepped aside, waiting for him to pass.

“Nice seeing ya, Peter,” He turned back to you, “Y/N.” With that he ducked his head and fled down the hallway. You righted yourself and continued on your way, Peter following after a momentary lapse.

“He was…more talkative than I ever seen him,” Peter said, “That’s the first time he’s said more than hi to me.”

“Oh?” You tried not to think about Bucky. If anything, he had seemed rather short with you.

“Miss Y/N–”

“Just Y/N,” You corrected him as you turned the corner.

“Did you notice that he was blushing? You made the Winter Soldier blush,” He laughed, “Tony was right. Everyone i _s_  afraid of you.”

You glanced over at Peter who marvelled back at you. You sighed and looked ahead of you, unable to suppress you grin. “You’re already learning,” You said, “Now,” You tapped on a door with your crutch, gesturing him inside, “Let’s get through this thing as quick as we can.”


	7. Burned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader is ready to return to the field.

Another month had passed and at last you were free of your cast. You felt as if your leg was no longer your own. And there was another strange feeling which you kept trying to stifle beneath your new workload. You hadn’t seen Bucky since that day with Peter and you were glad for it. You had grown far too attached to his presence in your life and needed to redirect. The kid kept you focused.

Your rehabilitation was going well enough. You were starting to put most of your weight on the leg and your therapist said you would be able to start physical training in the next few weeks. Your appointments were held in Stark Tower and you met with Peter afterwards to go over protocol and watch him practice. He had a natural advantage and needed little refinement in combat. Even so, Tony had warned you that his first mission would be at your side. It was a frightening prospect.

Most days you ended up helping Peter with his homework, though you didn’t let anyone else know. He had just started college and was torn between his heroism and his scholarship. Tony would help him with his more technical subject but was utterly useless when it came to literature or an classical artistry. It was convenient that you held an ill-used degree in the arts. It surprised Peter even more.

“So, in Greece, death was very important. One’s funeral was as significant as their birth. If you didn’t have a party when you died, then you were barely worth a grave,” You explained as Peter held his head over a textbook, gripping his temples, “You okay, kid?”

“It’s just–” He sat up, “How do you know so much about this stuff? Where exactly does this fit into you kicking ass?”

“Believe it or not, I was young once. I went to college,” You chided, “Four years for a degree in ancient studies. A master’s, too…” You drifted off, “And look where it got me.”

“You’re not old, Mi–Y/N,” He corrected himself.

“Really, Peter, I’m flattered that’s what you took from that revelation,” You scoffed, “We all have our strengths. I likely couldn’t engineer a wagon wheel but you can do so much more. It doesn’t mean shit that you can’t remember which vase is for the wine and which is for the remains.”

“Hmm,” He scratched his chin, “I guess you’re right.” He smiled as you stood, stretching out your cramping leg, “You know, I still think you look weird without your cast.”

“Oh yeah? You think you look cool in your spidey tights?” You teased, “You know, when we go on a real mission you can’t be hopping into your leotard every ten seconds. You must learn the art of subtlety.”

“With a teacher like you, how could I fail?” He joked. “Mr. Bucky was telling me you were rather prickly. He warned me that you were moody but I really don’t think you’re that bad. You’re just like Mr. Stark; underneath all your cynicism, you’re really a teddy bear.”

“Barnes said _what_ about me?” You turned sharply, careful not to tweak your knee. “When?”

“I, uh, dunno,” Peter rubbed his neck, “I ran into him a few weeks ago, he was with Yankee Doodle…Steve didn’t like that one either.”

“And? How did _my_ name come up in this little encounter?” You frowned as you sat back down.

“It just sort of…did,” He shrugged, “I was only–I asked because I was afraid of you. I thought a pair of super soldiers could give me a bit of advice on how to handle you.”

“Handle me? And you think Barnes would know that?” You huffed, “Let me tell you about Bucky. He’s impossible; careless; oblivious. He’s the last person you should go to for any sort of advice.”

“Oh?” Peter’s brows knitted together, “I didn’t know you and him had such a heated relationship.”

“We don’t have a relationship,” You snapped. You took a breath, pausing to collect yourself. _When had you become so riled up?_ “It’s just–I’ve been on my fair share of missions with Bucky and he is not easy to work with. You should brace yourself should you ever have the inconvenience of working with him.”

“You and Mr. Bucky work together?” His face was contorted as if he was trying to force together two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit. “And you’re both still alive?”

“Look, Peter, don’t worry about it,” You sighed, suddenly embarrassed by your reaction. “Bucky’s not so bad, I’m just…It sucks not being able to do my job and I’m frustrated. I still have a lot of work to do before I can go back out there and it feels shitty.  I don’t see anyone but you and–It just sucks.”

“I get it,” Peter said, “On campus, no one knows who I really am and I can’t be Spiderman there. I have to be Peter and that’s kind of lame. And lonely.” He pressed his lips together glumly, “And here, I’m always trying to impress everyone. I don’t want Mr. Stark to think I’m still a kid and everyone else is so tough, but you…you’re nice, you know? You remind me of my aunt.”

“Ugh, I am old,” You groaned,“I’m a freak too, kid. I do. I’m not a super soldier, I don’t have spider blood, and I wasn’t trained by Russian spies. I’m just me. My tenure here is going to be over a lot sooner than everyone else. If I break my leg again, I’m kaput.” You leaned back and pulled his textbook towards you, “But I make a great study buddy, hopefully a decent trainer, too.” You looked over at him and smiled, “You don’t have to be anyone but Peter Parker. Anything more and everyone would be too intimidated.”

“Miss Y/N…” He grinned like a puppy.

“Now, you’re going to ace this test, I promise you,” You flipped the page and pointed to a chart, “Let’s go over the order of ceremony…”

* * *

You were finally cleared to return to your normal routine. The therapist said you could go back to your own gym and you were no longer bound to Stark Tower; no longer dodging behind corners to avoid a certain co-worker. It was refreshing, yet foreign, being back in the gym. You changed carefully, looking over your leg. It was almost back to normal apart from a few scars. It felt just as good.

You pulled on your headphones and smiled at your reflection in the mirror. You were that much closer to being reinstated. That meant your first mission with Peter and while it was a nerve-wracking prospect, you were excited. You had always been the novice; the one with the disadvantage, and now you were the seasoned professional. There was only one aspect; rather, one person you dreaded.

You began your stretches, dipping low to reach your toes with legs wide apart. You lost yourself in the drone of music as you went through the motions. Even after so long, your routine came easy to you. You paused a sudden flash of nostalgia overtook you. You glanced in the mirror, relieved to find yourself alone. He wasn’t there; he wasn’t watching you as he had before. Likely he was avoiding you as much as you were him. He wasn’t as dumb as he seemed.

You breathed out as you stood straight, finding your way down to the elliptical. You climbed up and set the timer and speed. You began your workout as usual, humming along to the tune; the beat keeping pace with your exercise. Through the large windows, you could see the moon shining on the quiet city streets, the stars twinkling softly above. You missed this feeling; of being entirely alone.

*

Bucky caught himself before he could fully turn the corner. She was there, just in front of the mirror. She was bent over so that he had a clear view of her ass. It reminded him of the first night he had run into her here. It made him want to sneak up and smack it. It also made him want to flee. _How could she be so clueless and yet so irresistible?_ They hadn’t talked in over a month. They hadn’t really seen each other at all.

He tucked himself back behind the wall before she could look up and see him. He pulled out his phone and brought up her chat window. The unsent draft he had been writing for the last week remained. His finger hovered over send before resting on delete instead. He locked his phone and secured it back in his armband. Their time had come and past.

He had known from the start what he had asked for. It had never been more than it was in Berlin; detached and utilitarian. There wasn’t anything deeper than the physical between them. _How had he let himself slip into a false sense of security with her?_ He had almost grown dependent on their little trysts. He had made a fatal error.

He caught himself before he could leave his hiding spot. Y/N passed him without notice, carrying on to the line of machines and beginning her reps without concern. He watched her, his throat constricting as he admire the curve of her legs as she worked them. Carefully, he slid away from the wall and scurried off, hoping she didn’t catch sight of him before he could turn the corner.

* * *

Peter was fast. You had expected it; known it, but you were out of practice and he kept you on your toes. You barely rolled out of the way as he descended over you. Even without his suit, he could outperform you. You were never the strongest or fastest asset, but your sensibility gave you value. While the others imposed themselves physically, you kept them from careless mistakes.

You had yet to land a strike on Peter but you appreciated the challenge. The first time he hit you, he had reeled back and apologized profusely. It had taken ten minutes to convince him to carry on. You assured him you could take a punch and that’s often what you did. You caught his foot before his heel could crush your nose and spun under his leg, clasping his ankle in a death grip. His other foot slid from beneath him and he kept himself aloft on his fingertips.

“Woah,” He struggled to free his foot from your ankle hold; you only kept minimal pressure on his foot, “Uncle! I need a break.”

“Finally got ya,” You laughed and released him, “You’re doing well. You ready for tomorrow?”

“I think so,” He righted himself and sat on the floor, one leg bent under his arm.

“Easy in and out,” You lowered yourself across from him, “Intelligence mission. Usually my forte. The big guys handle the muscle and I do the head work.”

“And what do I do?” He grinned.

“You’re a special breed, Spiderkind. You can do both,” You assured him, “I’m starting to suspect Tony didn’t just stick you with me out of sympathy. He doesn’t need another supersoldier or Russian assassin.”

“I’m happy he stuck me with you,” Peter said, “I don’t know if I could have–” His voice died in the air as his eyes focused behind your head. You raised a brow and twisted around to see what had distracted him. Bucky stood in the door, awkwardly catching it with his foot as he turned back.

“Sorry, I didn’t know–”

“It’s fine,” You shrugged. The tension between you two had only gotten worse since your last meeting. It had been so long, you almost felt like strangers. It was hard to believe you had even slept together. “Open facility. More than enough room.”

“Yeah?” He glanced behind him, reluctantly letting the door close. He dropped his duffel against the far wall, looking over shyly as he approached. It was almost as if he was afraid. “So, uh, how’s the training?”

“Almost done,” You answered without looking up, “Kid’s a quick learner.”

“First mission tomorrow,” Peter announced proudly as he stood.

“You’re lucky, Y/N’s a good agent,” Bucky said, “You couldn’t ask for a better trainer.”

Peter offered his hand and you let him pull you to your feet. “We were just taking a quick break,” You explained, “We still have a little to go.”

“How’s the leg?” Bucky glanced at your right knee, eyeing the scars left behind.

“Good as new,” You answered evasively. You looked at Peter, his eyes wide and lips pressed together as if he was going to melt. He looked between you and Bucky anxiously. Was it that obvious? “I’ll show you actually,” You turned back to him, “Why don’t we show the kid how it’s done?”

“What? Y/N, I don’t want to hurt–”

“It’ll be good for his training. Besides, I’m all healed up and I might not be a super soldier, but I can take a hit. Just ask Peter, he’s got a few in already.” You crossed your arms.

Bucky scrunched his mouth up and looked to Peter whose eyebrows were nearly at his hairline. “Fine, you need it anyways. You must be rusty from your sabbatical.”

“Rusty?” You scoffed, “Peter, step back.”

You sighed, stretched your arms out before suddenly spinning and aiming a kick for Bucky’s chest. He caught your leg easily but you spun out, bringing your weight down to wrench yourself away and create distance between you. He aimed a punch towards your shoulder, missing you by an inch as you rolled again. You found your feet, weaving between his strikes as he came towards you.

He caught your fist as you aimed a counter and he held you in place. “If you’re mad at me, you could just say so. At least, text?” He kept his voice low.

You brought your elbow down to break his hold and jabbed again, ducking low as you brought a foot around to trip him. He jumped over it and you caught his next blow, deflecting his metal arm as you batted at each other. You were stilled again and he pulled you close, “You didn’t text me either,” You accused.

He shoved you away and you charged at him again. You brought an elbow up, catching his ribs and you next fist was pushed away. You kicked his knee and caught your arm, twisting it painfully before your managed to loosen his grip. You spun and struck him in the chest, catching him off-guard. His metal head smashed into your side and you hissed through the agony. You twirled around, kicking the back of his leg before you hopped up on his back and struggled to secure your arms around his neck.

As you locked in your choke hold, his metal fingers dug into your forearm and you leaned in to his ear. “Letting me win isn’t going to help you,” You growled, “But thanks for indulging me.”

He tapped, signalling his surrender and you let him go with an irritated grunt. You shook your head as you face Peter, keeping your back to Bucky. “I think we can call it a wrap, Pete,” You took your water bottle from a bench, “Go get some schoolwork done and rest. Back here at 0600, okay?”

“You got it, sir,” He gave a mocking salute and packed up his bag. He squeaked out a shy farewell to Bucky as you dropped your bottle in your haversack and pulled it over your shoulder, making to following his escape.

“Wait,” Bucky stopped you, “Do you wanna…talk?”

“About what?” You challenged, “We never had much time for that before. It’s not gonna do much now.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry I haven’t texted,” He said.

“I didn’t either,” You shrugged, “I’ve chalked it up to there not being anything left to say.”

“Don’t,” He tilted his head, “Don’t do that.” You narrowed your eyes but didn’t say anything. “When do you get back?”

“Couple of days,” You answered vaguely.

“We should get coffee then,” He said, “Sit down and talk this out.”

“There’s nothing to talk out.” You insisted.

He sighed, his chest rising and falling heavily. “You’ve got a lot going on. First mission back, training the kid. Just think about coffee.” He said, “I’m sure you can find some time on the road to text.”

You nodded and looked over his shoulder, careful to avoid his gaze. “See ya ‘round, Buck,” You sidestepped him and made for the door with long strides. The door closed behind you noisily and you shook your head at yourself. Focus on your mission; Bucky could wait a little longer.


	8. Clandestine Operation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm gonna to end the series here. It feels like the right point to end it as dragging it on I don't think would help. We've reached our conclusion and I hope you enjoyed it. Please, I would appreciate feedback comments and thank you for reading.

 

The hotel room was even smaller than the one you had shared with Bucky in Germany. Peter sat on the bed against the headboard as you stared out the only window to the street below. His first mission had been a success. Tony had kept him from packing his spider suit and the kid had done just as well without. It had also proven your worth as a trainer. Perhaps when your  _were_ out of commission, you’d still have some prospects.

You were tired. You always reverted to insomnia when on a mission. Peter’s restlessness made you envious. He scrolled through his phone, giggling at whatever memes people found funny these days. You watched as a car drove by, narrowly missing a pedestrian jaywalking across its path. You shook your head and looked to the faded wallpaper. This place must have last been updated in the fifties.

“Oh, my god, Miss Y/N, you have to see this one,” Peter guffawed, climbing nimbly to his feet. He held out his phone and you read the fake headline pasted across Bucky’s photo: “Kitten Thinks of Nothing But Murder All Day.” You scoffed and shook your head again before you could catch yourself. It  _was_  rather amusing.

“You should send it to him,” You mused, “I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“With all due respect, Miss, I’m not as brave as you,” Peter sat at the foot of the bed, “You’d have to be a badass to hate him as much as you do.”

“Hate him?” You raised your brows as you leaned on the arm of the chair, “I don’t...hate him. I just…” You stopped yourself, running your finger across your bottom lip.  _How were you to explain your relationship with Bucky?_  It wasn’t even really a relationship so much as existing in the same vicinity. “Look, it’s just complicated. Me and Bucky, we’re, um, different.”

“Hmmm,” Peter frowned thoughtfully. He stared at you as he nodded. “Miss Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” You answered suspiciously.

“Promise you won’t hurt me?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you ever,” You smiled, “You’re the only person I couldn’t dream of hurting.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. It also eases about ninety percent of my current fears,” He joked, “Um, you and Mister Bucky, um, were you ever, um...I don’t know how to say this right. Did you ever….uh, date?”

“Date?” You almost scoffed again. “Well, I wouldn’t call it dating. Is it that obvious?”

“So you and Bucky…” His eyes lit up, his face scrunched, and then he smiled. “I can’t believe I was right. Oh my god! Does Steve know? Natasha? Oh, does Mister Stark know?”

“No one knows,” You scowled, “Except for you, now. And it’s not really ongoing. It was...temporary.”

“Ah,” His face fell, “Well, okay.” He went silent with a sigh. His lips pressed together in contemplation.

“What is it?” You could tell when he was struggling and he was surely fighting not to say what was on his mind.

“I don’t know, I just thought you guys would be cute together. Once you get past the burning animosity. But the more I think about it, I can just see it.” His mouth set diagonally as he tried to hold back his grin, “Miss Y/N, I really think he still likes you. I mean, from what I’ve seen. You’re the only person I’ve seen make him nervous.”

“Peter, you’re young but technically an adult. I’ll be straight with you. It was physical, nothing more. Me and Bucky, we’re only compatible on the basest level.” You glanced out the window as heat crawled up your neck, “There’s nothing else there for either of us. We’re coworkers besides. That’s never practical and it’s already gotten in the way.”

“Well, I don’t think it needs to be practical,” Peter asserted. He was hesitant but his voice grew more steady, “I think you should give him a chance. And if he blows it, you can always kick his ass.”

You laughed at his last remark and tore your gaze from street. “Thanks, Peter, but I think it’s just fine as is.” You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, “Oh, and if you tell anybody, I might change my mind on the whole ‘I’d never hurt you’ sentiment.”

* * *

 

It was nice to be home. Since your conversation with Peter, he had been giving you knowing looks and making not-so-subtle comments. He had also sent Bucky that meme and a picture of you sleeping in the chair making a joke about cryostasis. You hadn’t appreciated the latter so much. It had also been followed by your own phone vibrating with a single worded text from the man in question.

_“Coffee?”_

You stared at the message and locked your phone, sliding it across the table as you passed. Your small apartment was dim, only the light of the television flickered in the front room. Bucky had sent the text the day before when you were on your way back. You had ignored it and yet it wouldn’t leave your mind.

You entered the kitchen and opened your freezer, pulling out the half-empty carton of cookie dough ice cream. You were pathetic. Walking around in your undies and an old tee as you ate straight from the bucket. You fell onto the couch and sunk in, clicking on the next episode of your current Netflix binge.

The window pane rattled, the wind growing wilder by the minute. The shadows of passing cars moved along the far wall and you let the ice cream melt on your tongue as the credits ended. Another gust shook your window, the frame shaking so hard it almost sounded as if someone was knocking. The sound repeated, this time louder. More deliberate. You weren’t sure that was the wind.

You slowly sat up and looked to the window just beside the couch, spoon sticking out of your mouth. You stood, the outline of a figure darkening the glass. Your heart froze and you removed the spoon from your mouth and set aside the carton. You were certain you would be able to scoop out someone’s eyeball with the utensil. Another knock sounded and you neared warily, grumbling as you recognized the metal fingertips pressed against the pane.

You unlocked the window and it was pulled open from the other side. Bucky’s hair was wind swept as he peeked through your window from your fire escape.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“You didn’t answer my text,” He said matter-of-fact, “But I figured I’d bring coffee anyways.” You noticed the tray in his other hand. It must have been quite a feat to carry it all the way up the narrow ladders.

“Usually when someone ignores your messages, it means they don’t want to talk,” You growled, “And especially would not like you to scale their building.”

“I’ve never known you to be anything less than blunt,” He shrugged, “So, if you wanted me to leave you alone, you would have said so by now.”

You rolled your eyes as the fire escape shook with the wind. “You may as well come in.” You stepped back, “I don’t want to have to explain to Stark why you ended up splattered across my sidewalk.”

You backed up and sat on the couch, pausing your Netflix before replacing the lid on your ice cream. You crossed your arms as Bucky set a coffee cup before you and sat in the armchair perpendicular to the couch. “Caramel latte,” He said, “I think I saved most of the foam.”

“Thanks,” You said begrudgingly, taking the warm cup in your hand. You couldn’t deny it smelled good.

“So…” He leaned forward, watching you as you removed the lid and inhaled the steam.

“So…” You echoed, waiting for him to continue.

His brow wrinkled as he watched you. You shrugged and waited for him to begin. “Are you really that stubborn? Come on, I can’t do this anymore.”

“As far as I can tell, we haven’t been doing anything,” You replied, “We’ve been blissfully apart.”

“Really?” He inhaled with exasperation, “Don’t be stupid. We can’t keep running circles around each other. Or maybe it is just me, but I can’t go on like this.” His lip twitched as he paused, “I can’t leave it like this.”

“Bucky,” You set aside your latte, “This,” You motioned between you, “Was sex. And then it just became too much.”

“Too much?” He grimaced, “Why? What was too much? I thought we were getting along.”

“We were. That’s the problem. We’re coworkers, we shouldn’t be screwing around.” You said, “Or we won’t even be that.”

“What makes you so sure of that? Wanda and Vision--”

“Are not us,” You inserted, “Maybe Nat can go from Bruce to Sam and act as if everything is alright but, I don’t know. We’ve already gone too far and it’s affecting our work. This is exactly what I didn’t want.”

“You won’t even try?” He asked.

“At what?” You said, “Look, I appreciate everything you did. More than you should have but I think we both misled each other.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s what I do. I don’t do relationships, Buck.” You rubbed your forehead, “They get messy and this is already as messy as I can stand.”

“Fine, I’m not going to push you into anything but I just want you to tell me you felt nothing. That it was only ever sex and nothing else. You never felt any spark of affection, of warmth.” He pleaded, “Tell me you hate me and I’ll go the way I came. I’ll tell Stark not to send us on missions together because if we don’t even try from here, I can’t pretend nothing happened. Not like you.”

You pursed your lips and looked at the coffee table, the foam of your latte fully melted. You wanted to tell him that it was nothing; that you had only ever wanted him selfishly. But you couldn’t. You had never been a liar.

“Of course, I felt  _something_ ,” You twined your fingers together, “But what happens after? When we stop feeling anything? When we can’t stand each other?”

Bucky smiled. A rare expression for him. “Then we’re back where we started, but it would feel so incomplete if we never even tried.”

You sat back, untangling your hands as you touched your neck. Despite yourself, his offer was tempting.  _How many times had you caught yourself thinking of him? Missing him, even?_ You couldn’t distract yourself with work because it only reminded you of him and alone in your apartment, you had found yourself reminded of his presence. Your bed seemed bigger and colder.

“So what do we do now? I’m not good at normal relationships.” You dropped your arms, leaning forward.

“I’m not good either. The last time I dated, dinner and dancing was the usual. Now it’s, well, I’m not quite sure.” He couldn’t stop smiling. It was rather irritating the more he did it, especially how it made you want to do the same. “So why don’t we just do what we know we’re good at?”  He eyes turned lurid as they strayed to your bare legs, “Normal is boring.”

Slowly, he slid off the chair, walking towards you on his knees. He pushed between your legs, his hands shyly resting on them. He looked up at you as his fingers inched up your thighs and you failed to suppress a shiver. It had been too long since you had been touched. Since  _he_  had touched you.

“Can’t I even finish my latte?” You teased as he pressed his thumbs to your hips bones, slipping them beneath the waistband of your panties.

“It’s too late for coffee,” He hummed, raising his chin.

You grinned and bent forward, kissing him lightly. He deepened the kiss as he bunched your panties, tugging on them gently. You touched his cheeks, cradling his jaw between your hands as you longed to devour him. You heard a tear and pulled away suddenly, looking down at the ragged cotton of your underwear.

“Oops,” Bucky said without remorse, ripping the other side of the panties until they fell away from you, leaving you at his mercy.

You shook your head at him, further feeding his lust as his eyes sparked. He took the hem of your shirt and quickly slid it up your torso. You lifted your arms and helped him slip it over your head. He tossed it over his shoulder, his eyes roving your body. You giggled as his fingers tickled your waist, the cold metal turning warm as he caressed your stomach. He cupped your breasts and pressed himself against the chair as close as he could.

You gripped his shoulders as you welcomed him, forgetting the anxiety which had kept your from him that last month. How easily it had fallen away. He laid a path of kisses along your chest, nibbling the flesh as he reached your nipple, taking it in his mouth with a purr. You felt a tingle spread across your flesh, seeping down your torso. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he teased you with his teeth.

His hands traced along your sides, sending chills through you as they settled on your hips. His lips followed decisively. He kissed along your hips bones and you couldn’t keep from twitching. His nose brushed against the top your pelvis and he bent lower, his fingers crawling lower, kneading your thighs.

His fingertip gently touched your clit, coyly, patiently. He pressed it, keeping his motion slow and tantalizing. You exhaled sharply and he flicked, another spasm taking you. He chuckled and removed his hand, lifting your legs to hook them over his shoulders. You slid down on the couch as he guided you forward, clinging to the cushion as he lowered his head.

His tongue grazed your clit and you sighed. You felt his unyielding smile as he tended to you, his mouth gentle but precise. He lapped, steadily picking up intensity but slow enough that you were growing impatient. The pressure was building, the heat gathering within. You squirmed, your hand going instinctively to the back of the head as you tried to urge him on.

He sucked on your clit and you felt the upswing, the fire travelling through your veins. A swirl of ecstacy was brewing, your nerves buzzing. Your legs tensed around Bucky’s head and you moaned as he grasped your hips, drawing out your orgasm with his tongue as you writhed atop the couch.

You were panting as you were taken by the sudden rush, your muscles releasing as you went limp and removed your hand from Bucky’s hair. He raised his head, still grinning as his lips glistened. He reluctantly let your legs fall from his shoulders and climbed up beside you. He caressed your cheek as you turned to look at him, your eyes cloudy as he leaned in to kiss you.

His kiss roused you from your rapture and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. You pushed it down his shoulders as he let your undress him. His tee shirt followed, though your nearly took his head off with it. He kicked off his shoes as he stood and you unbuttoned his jeans eagerly. His excitement was obvious beneath his briefs and you pulled him back onto the couch. You shoved him onto his back and grabbed the waist of his underpants. You swiftly slid them down his legs, making sure to graze his cock as you did.

You took him in your hand and stroked him, sending a shiver through him. He watched, his shoulders against the arm of the couch. You let go of his and ran your hands along his torso, tracing the lines of his muscles until your reached his chest. You leaned forward and kissed him, feeling his member prodding against your butt.

“I missed this,” He whispered as your lips parted, “I missed you.”

“You know,” You smirked, “I might have missed you too.”

You reached down between your legs. You felt him in your hand, teasing the head of his cock. You took him firmly, sliding your grip down his shaft as you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly, you eased him inside of you, removing your hand from him as you sunk onto him. You sighed as relief filled you.

He gripped your hips as you kissed him again; this time deeper. You began to move atop him, keeping your pace as slow as his had been. He kneaded your bottom with his hand as you kept from speeding up despite your own want. Your lips brushed across his cheek and you nuzzled against him, nibbling at his neck as he groaned.

“Ah, fuck,” He rasped, “Goddamn it, Y/N. You’re--” He pinched your ass as you continued to work over him, “--torturing me now.”

You giggled and buried your hands in your hair as you sat up slightly, watching the strain in his face as he longed for more. You pressed your palms to his shoulders for leverage as you picked up your pace slightly, eliciting another moan from him. You couldn’t help your own sigh as you clit was tickled by his pelvis. You dug your nails into his flesh as you tried not to succumb to your own impatience.

His hands went to your waist as he tried to guide you; try to make you speed up. You let go of his chest and leaned back, increasing your speed just slightly. You could feel your chest bouncing as the heat in your pelvis took over. Despite yourself, your pace picked up. You moaned and gripped his arms, clawing at him as you reached for your orgasm.

You squeaked, an embarrassing sound, but were too enraptured to care. Your muscles tensed and released and you quivered delightfully atop him. As you rode out your peak, his hand carried you, keeping your motion as he grunted suddenly and you felt him spill within you. You moaned again, his pleasure sending a tingle along your thighs as your afterglow burned through you.

Shakily, you bent over him, resting against him as you breath slowed. You felt his breath along your hair as he nuzzled your head. His hand ran along your back and he held you warmly, still inside of you. You closed your eyes as you brought your arms up under his to embrace him. You never wanted this moment to end. You didn’t want that same doubt to return to you. You just wanted to stay there forever. 


End file.
